Whatever doesn't kill you, is gonna leave a scar
by Harley Quinn of Hate
Summary: Whatever doesn't kill you is gonna leave a scar. Met Harleen Quinzel. She is the newest employee of Arkham Asylum. Where will her degree take her?
1. There's a Crack in my Soul

Author's Note: Hi guys. Thanks for reading. I have been working on this story for about three months. I actually have posted parts over on Deviant Art, but I didn't know about this site. So, I took it from over there and I am slowly going to add it here. I haven't finished it yet, so even I don't know what will happen. So, I do have some notes about the characters. If you want to skip them, stop reading now.

Harleen: I actually bought a few of her comic books and I didn't like how she was portrayed as a dumb blonde and how she slept her way to Arkham. I think she is a very intelligent woman but it is hidden behind shyness. She wasn't hard to portray because I think I made up a lot of her character.

Crane/Scarecrow: I had a lot of trouble with his character. I watched Batman Begins about a million times, studied his expressions and his ticks. I took avid notes and I even watch a few of his other movies. I did take a lot of inspiration from _On the Edge_ and _Watching the Detectives_. I recommend them both highly. I also recommend _Red Eye_ because he is so adorable. His psychological profile probably took the longest but once I got inside his head, it just came to me. I did make up a bit of his past, taking some from the movies and from the Animated Series.

Joker: You won't be seeing him for a while, but his was the hardest character of all. I had no idea where to start. I watched _The Dark Knight _over and over. By the time I figured him out, my whole family knew his lines. I started by figuring why he did what he did, why he said what he said, etc. I still haven't figured this guy out, and honestly, I don't think anybody ever will. That is one of the greatest legacies of the Joker. No one attempt his mind and he stays that much more fascinating.

Anyways, I think I have rambled on enough. If anyone wants them, I will post my character notes. I have a profile written for everyone. Just let me know in a pm or reviews which character you want. I plead with you to leave me reviews. I love them, even if they say that I should never insult Batman by writing again, I just want feedback. Let me know if any of the characters fall out of character.

So, if you are still reading, may the comic lords bless you.

**Disclaimer**: I do not claim to own any of the following charaters, of which full rights belong to DC Comic.

I also do not claim to own any of the lyrics of Marilyn Manson, they fully belong to him.

Thanks!

CHAPTER ONE

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"I have decided to move you onto a more high profile case."

"Dr. Thurman, I really appreciate this opportunity, but do you really think that I am ready?" Dr. Thurman was a middle aged man with slightly thinning hair. His eyes glistened a light green that made him look soft but he was everything but. Very stern and un-accepting, Dr. David Thurman was relentless. I can't deny that I looked up to him, and I wanted his approval. I wanted nothing more to please him.

"Now, Harleen, you have been at Arkham for almost six months and have only been treating the simplest of break downs. I don't have to tell that you are more than capable. You are starting on Cranes case tonight and meeting with a biochemist early tomorrow. I expect you to be well versed on this case." There it was the approval I so craved was there, even if it was small. He gathered the files, tapes and transcripts into a small box before I could even answer him. He knew I would do anything to please him.

"Absolutely, sir, is there anything else you need?" I added in an extra sweet tone.

"No, Harleen, you have enough to learn for tomorrow." With that he went back to work, once again ignoring my presence. This is my cue to leave. I tiptoed out and down the hall and down to the basement where my office is. The basement does run on electricity but the setup is so faulty that almost every hour, flickers furiously. I still refuse to use that elevator, never did trust it. There isn't direct stairs to the basement so I have to go through the main lobby, climb down those creepy dark stairs and walk past the boiler room and the morgue just to get there.

Off in the other end is where Dr. Crane decided to set up camp, so to speak. That wing is still closed for "repairs". Anyone that knows Arkham knows that we don't repair, we cover up. His bout with the water line has been fixed but half the walls have not been fixed, just closed off. Only 30 of the 98 escapees were caught. Crane was apprehended a few months later when a drug deal went bad.

I sighed and looked at the clock as I straightened my desk, gathered all of Cranes files and looked over my schedule.

_Half an hour left, I guess I'll make my rounds. _I grabbed my clipboard.

Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane had some gorgeous architecture and all of it is completely original down to the double barred windows and the inlaid floor. The tragedy of it all is that it isn't maintained, I wouldn't even deem it inhabitable but apparently someone has something worked out with the health and safety inspector, then again I doubt we even have one. The paint was peeling, tiles chipping, half of the equipment was banned, outdated or just plain broken, not to mention the piles of filth that seem to multiply in the corner on its own accord.

All of my patients were present and the time passed without a second thought. I packed Crane's files in to the box, grabbed my other case files and locked up. I rushed down the street to the parking garage and threw my belongings into the passenger seat, ran over to the driver side, locked the door and breathed a sigh of relief. You never knew, we weren't exactly in the Narrows but this part of town isn't celebrated for its upstanding citizens.

I reached my apartment without incident. I climbed the three flights of steps and opened my door. There was a familiar beeping of my answering machine, the only greeting I ever got. I changed into my old gymnast uniform, spread out all of Dr. Crane's case files, hit play on the machine and started to stretch. It had become a part of my routine since college. I was on Gotham University's gymnastics league but a misplaced back handspring and my career was over. I had broken my wrist in three places and had two metal pins implanted. In fact the scar was what I was most self conscious of. I reached over and hit the "Play" button.

"Congratulations Miss. Quinzel, you are now eligible for-" _Delete. _

"Harley, Baby, I am so sorry, can you please forgive me? I know I did this before but it will never, ever happ-" _Delete, Asshole! Ex-boyfriends, can live with 'em, can't kill 'em and hide the body, eh? _I laughed audibly at my joke. I was hardly ever a negative person but when it came to men, I was practically Edgar Allen Poe. I had been through so much heart break that I decided to just take a break. The next message interrupted my thoughts.

"Harley, honey, will you call me back?" _Oh shit, Dad. Why call now, I just don't have the time._

I started flipping through the files discerning the important from the not when I found his mug shot. Never did I notice that he had the most piercing yet cold eyes that I have ever seen. They were very deep and told stories of a sorrowful past but all was shielded in a layer of pure anger and hatred. He face remained composed but his lips curved in to a very small smirk that favored the left that made me feel uneasy.

I bent forward and slowly and gracefully lifted myself into a handstand. I took a few steps forward, then backward. I tried to stand on one hand but my wrists were still too weak.

My phone began to ring again, which made me jump but I caught myself and resumed my previous position. _The machine will get it. _

"Harley, honey, can you please call me back, it's really important-" The moment I heard my mother's voice, I sprang forward and lunged for the phone.

"Hi Ma, what's the word?" I answered, heading for the tub, hoping I could get a bit of multi-tasking done. I would just half to just skip my hair.

"Harley, sweetie, it's been almost week and I was worried. You father said he called."

"I know, mom, I have just gotten a case that is really out of my league and it's just a lot on my plate, so I can't really talk long"

"I just wanted to check on you, that's all. I'm worried about you in that apartment all by yourself and in such a horrible neighborhood. I really wish you would just come back home, there are plenty opportunities here and well, we miss you"

"I know mom, I just can't. The only mental facility there has Matthew Sedgwick as their director" I said as rinsed and dried myself. I slipped on one of my ex's old t-shirts. It was my favorite thing to sleep in.

"Darling, you are going to have to let go of this silly feud you seem to have with him, he didn't intentionally do anything to you."

"He took my scholarship; I was going to go to Yale. I would have been close to home. It's his fault I am here working with a man that runs around with cut up pillow cases on his head. Sedgwick cheated anyways. I don't want to talk about him and I have to go anyways"

"Okay, just as long as you are okay, just call if you need anything and I will be up to visit possibly next week. I love you."

"Love you to and tell Dad I'm fine, see you soon. Bye" With that I hung up with a sigh and brushed out my hair.

Okay, back to the case. He was admitted four months ago…docile…blah, blah blah, I knew all of this already so I moved onto my favorite part, the psychological history. I popped some popcorn, which would substitute as my dinner, not that I had anything better.

_Name:__ Jonathan Crane, Ph.D.  
__Aliases:__ The Scarecrow; Jon Delany  
__Age:__ 32_

_Sex__: Male_

_Special Precautions: __Separation from inmates, social interaction restricted, and private use of Recreation Room an hour per day. Transport with a straight jacket and shackles only when Scarecrow is dominate._

_Identifying Marks: __Numerous scars on body, primarily located on back and torso. (unknown origin)  
__Profile:__ Jonathan Crane graduated from Gotham University, majoring in Psychology, Organic Chemistry, and Education. __Soon after this, he__ took a position at the University as a professor of psychology, specializing in fears and phobias. He began __running__ studies with willing participants (paid). __He introduced them to__ an unknown __hallucinogenic__ substance __known to cause__ intense hallucinations and then __exposed__ them to an object they feared. __The patients would all then slowly descend into madness__. He also was running ads in the Gotham Times __under a pseudonym, one Jon Delany, claiming__ to cure phobias. In the early experiments, all patients were __quickly__ injected with an antidote, but in later trials he would push the limits of sanity. His hypothesis stated that fear could push the mind to new realms, which could be considered alternate personalities. He also believes that all humans have at least one other dormant personality that could essentially be released by continued exposure to fear. He has driven at least twenty three patients to the point of hospitalization in Arkham Asylum and has __caused__ seven deaths, four of which were suicides during the trials__;__ The remaining were caused by heart attacks, presumably due to intense fear (intense stress leads to increased blood pressure and a state of paranoia). His latest version of the "Fear Toxin" leads the victim to fear __whatever they see immediately__ after exposure. __Such information__ is only based on testimony of said victims, __who__ cannot be entirely trusted. Crimes committed __include, but are not limited to,__ manslaughter, human testing __(both willing and un-willing)__, drug-trafficking, __terrorizing Gotham city__, and minor robbery charges, which seem to __be to__ fund research and production of his "Fear Toxin" Has also been associated with the mob in Gotham City.__Psychological profile:__He has been diagnosed with dual personality disorder, dominate and recessive class. When he is operating in the dominant mindset,__ he is usually very calm and calculating. He has a severe obsession with fear, as seen __in__ his criminal history. He does many things to gauge the reactions of the people around him. __These seem__ to __be smaller versions__ of his experiments__,__ as many of the inmates that he comes across are terrified of him. His demands/requests are limited. He only asks that his one hour of recreational time be spent every evening watching the Gotham News. At this time, he is given full control of the television but kept in an unstrapped straight jacket __as he has been known to have__ outbursts. He is not permitted to socialize with anyone for his own protection__,__ but he is more than happy in his solidarity. He is border__-__line anti-social, but he willing speaks to his old colleges. Many of the other patients are completely terrified of him, meaning he is usually let alone in community situations; no other patients will be in the recreation room with him. He __is classified as a very negative and un-friendly person.__ He is able to read people in the sense that he __knows__ exactly what to say __depending on how others react to him;__ We have concluded that this is due to his training as a psychologist. He is very solemn; his attitude is grave __and he is very sarcastic__. __He conveys his anger with his words__, his face shows very little emotion, __though__ he always has a slight smirk or a curl of his lips which can be read many ways.__shows__ no other signs of schizophrenia. He is very aggressive and should not be approached. He refuses to eat and usually doesn't sleep. His voice seems to change pitch__; it sounds a bit deeper.__ He is constantly demanding his mask (which contains a respirator and a supply of toxin in reservoir tanks) and when refused, __makes__ one out of his pillow cases. He will wear it during __transformations between personalities__. It is to be removed whenever found. The transformation is brought on by __sheer willpower__. He __seems to prepare__ for his "transformation", but no tests __have yet been run regarding this__. It is also to be noted that he may also talk to his suppressed personality, whether it be Crane or Scarecrow. Paranoia is also seen during this time, but as of late, it has been rare. During his first admission a__t Arkham Asylum, paranoia was heavily present__ but he had been exposed to his own toxin, so he __presumably__ was in this state until the drugs left his system.__In suspecting a dual personality disorder, we believe the scarecrow is his safety net.__ From information we have collected during interviews (See tapes D-09 and F-01) he has revealed that he had a very traumatic __childhood__ involving abandonment and bullying/aggression from others__, however __the details are still unclear. The Scarecrow __provides him strength and stability__. He still is in control __and__ his mask seems to give him the feeling of strength, or even pride. His actions are bold and unpredictable, even as Dr. Crane. We __have__ also started observation for obsessive compulsive disorder. He is driven by the fear of others and tries to get reactions wherever he goes, leading to compulsion, but this but be proven before treatment is administered._

When his recessive personality, the scarecrow, takes over he is almost completely reversed. In this state he is despondent and mumbles to himself, but

"This is completely unlike anything I have ever dealt with before. I mean, we all have studied these patients for afar but now, I was solely responsible for the well being of a man that believed that his experiments were warranted and that fear is an actual catalyst for multiple personalities." I mumbled to myself, heaved a heavy sigh and stretched out my limbs hearing the barely audible cracks of my bones.

Might as well be comfortable if I have to read through his obsessions, right? I moved to my bed, not lifting my eyes from his files. I stacked the "to read" pile on my nightstand, praying that I got at least an hour of sleep.

Six hours into it, I had made almost no hypothesis of what his toxin could be but I knew every detail of what it did and how it can be counteracted. I also had a partial chemical makeup and it was organic. I yawned for about the hundredth time and got up to make some coffee, and slipped back under my covers, warm mug in hand. Within the next two hours, I had drifted to sleep, case file in one hand and my empty mug in the other.


	2. The Man that you Fear

CHAPTER TWO

_Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep_

I slammed down on top of my alarm, hoping it was the correct button. Rubbing my eyes, I tried to adjust to the little amount of sleep and peered at my clock. _6:45 am_ the numbers flashed at me, almost in a taunting way. It took another minute or two to process the fact that I was extremely late.

I stumbled to my closet, tripping on a power cord and pulled out a few sweaters, deciding today I will wear the green v-neck sweater with a white lace underlay. I slipped on my pinstriped dress pants and those pointy shoes I can never manage to walk in. I stuffed all of Cranes' files into my bag noticing a nice coffee stain on the one I feel asleep with, grabbed my make up and was in my car within 20 minutes of waking up. As I guessed it took a half an hour to get to work, which gave me plenty of time to do my hair and face. I ran up to Cranes' cell, hoping no one was there.

The hall was deserted so I checked in on Crane, who had again made a pillowcase into a mask and was talking quietly to himself. I decided to let him be, at least then the botanist or whoever he was would be able to see for himself. What would he know about a dual personality case anyway? Yea, he'll help with the toxin but what will he do to help Dr. Crane? And why what he such a morning person?

I set my things down and retrieved an orderly so we could at least talk to Crane without a breakdown. By the time I came back, a woman with violent red hair pulled up into a delicate, twisted braid was checking the cell numbers. She was dressed rather plain, but her figure was amazing. She turned towards me and her eyes were as striking as her hair. Green as emeralds and I hated her for it. She was drop dead gorgeous and I was only cute, only simple. I let my thoughts pass as quick as they came.

"Ah, you must be Dr, Quinzel, I am Dr. Pamela Isely, but please call me Pam." She started.

"Yes, but please, it's Harley. This here is Dr. Crane. He has been admitted for mild psychosis and dual personalities. The toxin he uses, which is why you were called in, is organic but we don't know anything else about it. I have packed samples in my office that I have to give you. It causes severe hallucination which can last for days, 10 hours at a very minimum. He has also produced different concentrations. "

"Are the hallucinations violent, I mean, do they cause otherwise rational people to act irrationally or do they just sit in a stupor?"

"Most definitely violent."

"Would you mind if I asked him few questions?" She asked hopefully. I think she was just as interested in his case as I was.

"I already have an orderly to enter with us. He is at a very violent stage right now, Lyle, would you mind?" I unlocked the door and let them both in first and closed the door behind us. It was a tight squeeze and Crane or I should say Scarecrow noticed this and backed into the corner as far as possible.

He stood there, straight jacket on staring through his mask. His eyes were blank but I could feel him scanning us, deciding what he was going to do and to my surprise he pulled off his mask, sat crossed-legged. He shook his head as if he was throwing off water.

"So, Dr. Isely, the wonderful Seattle biochemist, eh?" He started, to which I jumped. His voice was a bit dry and raspy from lack of use. My jaw visibly dropped.

"And the infamous Dr. Jonathan Crane, the master of fear, what have you gotten yourself into now? What exactly do you use in your toxin, quite potent stuff as I hear." Was she flirting or just trying to get what she needed. Either way, he was warming up to her nicely, he couldn't keep his eyes off of hers and there was a trust I hadn't seen before.

"How about you have a guess, you are the plant lady, after all" He was absolutely delighted to play this game, but she didn't miss a beat. She must of found an angle to work from and seemed very I her element.

"I would say you started with a high base of _Amanita muscaria for the intense awareness, leading to the paranoia____, the blue_poppy flower for the visions and a pinch of LSD for good measure?" His eyes widened for half of a second which soon turned into a smirk. I could see a fire behind his eyes, not of angry but of understanding.

"Almost, my little biochemist. LSD is detectable in high doses, so I try to avoid it. Those blue flowers and mushrooms however are spot on. The rest are in small doses and are hardly worth mentioning" She smiled, bid him a farewell and shifted out of the room seamlessly. She really knew her shit.

"Dr. Crane, I will be back in a few hours for our session. I don't know if you remember me, I'm Dr. Quinzel." At this, he raised his eyebrows in a disbelieving look and soon resorted to his same smirk. It was really starting to creep me out. I bent down as close as I could get without risking injury. "I suggest you hide your mask in the bedsprings of the frame, they will never find it. Thanks for your help." He seemed to lose his smug expression. I hoped I had gained his trust.

"Dr. Is- Pam, that was amazing! How did you get him to do that? We have been trying for months!"

"I just played on his ego. I knew he was proud of what he did and would be eager to discuss it if I knew what he used. He wanted his cleverness complimented."

"Well, _your_ cleverness should also be complimented. I'm treating you to coffee; we can discuss our options there. Arkham is too depressing. My cars right in the parking garage."

"Actually, I prefer to walk, you know the whole killing the environment? How far away is it?"

"Just round the corner, ever hear of Jackson's Place? They make the best coffee."

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

We talked about small things, nothing really but small talk to fill the time. We were seated, ordered and served within ten minutes.

"I am not exactly a morning person and without coffee, I am a zombie." I said, breathing in the smell of my own little vice.

"I actually only drink tea, coffee disagrees with my stomach. Anyways, when was Dr. Crane admitted?" She was sipping a peppermint tea that smelled delicious.

"A few months ago, back in June. He was brought in after the Batman had tied him up with some wanna bes. Stopped a drug deal, which of course was completely laced with his toxin. The plants you mentioned earlier, is there an antidote we could invest in?"

"Yes, there are a few options. If you would like, I could have a consultation with the police department. I understand that they had an antidote for his first version. We could use that for our basis and move from there." After a few moments of thought, she added. "Actually, I think I could start production of it immediately. I am going to-" She suddenly went silent and her face showed udder annoyance and a hint of embarrassment. Her phone was ringing.

"Is that… the Darth Vader…theme…song?"I managed to get through without losing it completely. My giggles were noticeable, but I soon got control. I had to stay professional.

"Um…yeah, sorry" She looked down at the caller id and turned it off. She continued "Yea, my boyfriend insists on changing it to a new song every time I see him. I never get around to changing it back. Last week it was _Lollipop_. Anyways, as I was saying, I am going to back to Seattle for a month or so, just to collect the rest of my belongings but when I return, I can have it mass produced. His dose seems to have worn off of some patients but in the more concentrated dose it is very dangerous, as I am sure you know." She glanced at her watch and looked up nervously. "I am sorry to cut you off, I have to get going, is there anything that I need t know?" She said as she slipped me her card, which had both her home and cell numbers.

"Nope. Here is my card and I'll write down Gotham P.D.'s number. Thanks for all of your help, Pam. Really. And, please, be careful. The Narrows can be very dangerous. I live two blocks away from the perimeter. Here is my apartment." I wrote on a napkin and shoved it into her hand.

I headed back to Arkham to have my first meeting with the witty Dr. Crane.

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"Well, Dr. Crane, how are you doing this morning?" I ask as I joined him in one of the session rooms. They were very uncomfortable; cement walls and floors, metal table and chair and one barred window that let almost no light in. For this session, Crane was only in a set of hand and foot cuffs, but he was still Crane. He wasn't physical, but knew exactly what to say to get a person going. In fact, he looked forward to it.

"Other than having an intern trying to psychoanalyze me, I am just peachy. Miss Quinzel" He rolled his eyes and smirked at his remark.

"Dr. Crane, I have already earned my psychology degree and I believe I am fully qualified. Back to the matter at hand, is there anything you need to talk about before we start?"

"Haven't we already started? I have better things to do than to listen to you ramble on, Miss Quinzel." His smirk stayed in its place. "And don't you think I have already psychoanalyzed every detail of my life to death? My childhood, my teen years, every possible corner of my mind, I have uncovered. There is nothing there because I am not crazy. I am simply a person with different goals than someone as 'sane' as you" He paused to take a small breath and continued his speech. I have heard it all before.

"And to answer your question, the only way that you are remotely qualified to take my case is because you are the only person at this hospital that I have no prior history with. Anyone else has conflict of interest. You, however, have nothing here, but you have had problems at Gotham University, have you not? A problem with authority, a male professor underestimated you and you seem like the vengeful type." He had made his point. I said _believe_ I was qualified instead of I _know_ I am qualified. Mistake number one.

"I didn't ask a question and it is Dr. Quinzel, if you don't mind." Mistake number two, never, ever get defensive or personal.

"But you were thinking it. I know. I still earned my degree; I remember everything that was taught. Don't underestimate me, Miss Quinzel." He added an extra emphasis on Miss, knowing it would get under my skin. I narrowed my eyes in anger. Mistake three, you're out. I decided to end the session before it got any worse than it already was.

"Dr. Crane, it was a pleasure. I will be seeing you soon, very soon." I walked out with my head held high, very well knowing that I had lost and that I was going to be pulled from the case. There goes my rise to the top. I knew Thurman would be waiting for me in the side room. I just wanted to face my fate before he had the pleasure of hunting me down.

"Quinzel? What did you do?" He asked, quite stern in his features as well as his tone.

"I..I know sir. I wasn't supposed to get defensive or personal or show any feelings at all, its just, he knew exactly what to say to get under my skin. It's like he could read my thoughts. I really have to apologize and I hope that I won't be reduced to intake?"

"You don't realize. You are one of the first of his therapist to leave on your terms _and _not in tears. I think you two are going to work wondrously together. The fact that he thinks that you are no smarter that an average intern will be very useful." This was the first time I had ever seen him look remotely happy, and all he did was curl the ends of his lips. No way had I thought that I would be getting praised on top of it. "You do however, need to find a way to get inside his head. His patience will run thin, very fast. He needs to trust you but you cannot get too personal."

"Any ideas, sir?" I asked, praying that I could get an inkling of what I could try.

"That is up to you. Good Luck." I knew he would say that. I had a lot of thinking to do tonight, which meant another sleepless night.

* * *

Author's Note: I thought this chapter was shorter than this, oh well. Anyways, thank you for reading. The action is kind of low right now, but in the next two chapters, it really picks up. Please, leave me reviews. I really enjoy them and I want to personally than all of those that did. Thanks, I hope you enjoyed!

Also, if you are interested, all of my Chapters are titled after Marilyn Manson Lyrics. As is the story. And to answer the question I received via PM, no I am not studying psychology at the moment but I will be in the future.


	3. It never heals, It never goes away

CHAPTER THREE

* * *

I walked down the hall towards our session room, looking my best and quite honestly, feeling my best. I had come to a solution and I was sure it would work.

"Good morning, Dr. Crane. I hope you slept well." With the extra emphasis on Dr. and my huge smile, he knew I was being impudent. And I was damned proud.

"Yes, morning, why must we meet so early?" He asked as he rubbed his eyes. The truth was that I had extra coffee this morning that would wear off very soon, but I was hoping Crane was a night person. I was right, which meant that I could catch him off his guard.

"Yes. It helps the mental process. Plus, you should be reversing you schedule. It would benefit you greatly. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"Why, yes, I am in fact completely crazy. I had a perfect childhood except for that creepy, touchy-feely uncle that we all seem to have." He winked and continued. "Then, I met the perfect woman who left me on our wedding day for my best man and brother. I started hearing voices telling me to kill my parents then my dog and that small puppet, Lambchop. Have you heard enough, or should I continue?" He smirked, enjoying his sarcasm.

"Dr. Crane, that sounds perfectly dreadful. How I wish I could help" I added with hand on my cheek, making sure he saw my "distress".

"Dr. Crane, you don't like or respect me and I am relatively sure I won't like you either. I do, however, know that you want to get inside people's heads." His ever present smirk lessened a bit and his icy blue eyes lit up. I had peaked his interest.

"I'm listening."

"Seeing as you have already shown your interest in my past, I am offering you an all access pass."

"And you expect the same from me? No deal."

"No, more like you ask a question, I answer and you answer a similar question. So if you don't want me to know something about you, don't ask it of me." He heaved a heavy sigh and stared deep into me, into my mind.

"What makes you think I couldn't find out anything I wanted about you? And how do I know you'll tell me the truth?"

"I could ask the same of you, Crane. Trust is all I can offer." I winked and with a second thought… "Scouts honor." I smiled and he lessened his stare.

"Fine. First, I want to know why you chose Gotham University, or just Gotham in general, to receive your education." I could see he was slipping back into a comfort zone; just like when he own Arkham, when he was a psychologist.

"First of all, the tuition was quite cheap. I didn't have a lot of money and my high school was more into giving scholarships to the undeserving, mostly football stars. So, I had to settle here. I chose Gotham because of Arkham. I hate to sound so blunt, but in a city with so much crime, there is bound to be that much more metal instability. As for you, I understand that you were one of the top psychologists at the University." He smiled and nodded his head at this. "So why did you leave, what was the incident that everyone is so afraid to talk about."

"Funny thing you should mention fear. I was demonstrating the effects of fear to my students. I fired a blank towards the ceiling without warning, just to show them that their reactions would differ depending on the situation. I then had my assistant, then pregnant, who was fully aware of the situation, pose as a victim. She was quite the actress, actually. I pulled her from her seat and asked for one person to take her place. No one came to her aide. I was relieved of my position soon after. None was my fault, just an overreaction." He cleared his throat and continued. "Next. Where are those scars from?" He indicated my wrist. It was covered, but it must have caught his eye when I brushed my hair out of my face or during any number of motions I did today. "May I?" I carefully reached my arm across the table. He gripped my wrist with dominance, and strength but not to the point of pain. He traced my scar with his long, cold finger and began to process when he felt."To precise to be a cutter, how did you break it?" He released me and folded his hands gently on the table.

"In college, I was on the gymnastics team. I was actually pretty good, but I miscalculated a flip, landed on an uneven surface and snapped my wrist in two places. I now have metal pins. I have read in your file that you have multiple scars on your back and arms, where did those come from?" His eyes became much larger, only for a second, as if he pushed his panic away. He did not want to answer, and I was in shock that he didn't connect his own scars with mine. This was going to break him, hopefully reveal what happened to him that helped nurture the scarecrow, what released the beast from within.

It felt like hours had passed, I had no idea how long it had really been. He just was staring. His eyes meet mine, but I know he didn't see me. He was wagering an internal war with himself, or I should say himselves, and I wasn't about to interrupt him.

Eventually, I could see him come back. He had reached his resolve.

"If you answer another question, then I will tell you." I knew this must be something he has been holding back. It had to be important. Anything he could ask would be worth this answer.

"Alright, what's your question?"

"Why do you choose abusive relationships?"

"What? I don't…" I trailed off. I didn't think my relationships have been abusive, well not to the point of harm. I did not expect this kind of question and I knew I had to answer. How did he know?

"Well, the bruises on your arm tell a different story. You also have quite a scar on below your chin, and it is in no way surgical. You were threatened with a knife. It is at least two years old. You are avoiding my question." His analysis of me was almost completely correct. I did have horrible taste in men. How did he know this though, was he researching me? I didn't think he looked at me at the extent to where he could see my scar. It was only about an inch long. Then again, that's what he enjoyed doing

"As you avoided mine? My relationships…" I thought how I could describe them without making him sound right. "Are different. I admit I don't exactly choose the right men. I don't go looking for abusive men, but it usually just happens. By the time I figure it out, I have been dating him a while. Plus, it's not exactly easy, as you should remember, to go out and find the perfect guy while trying to work here. No one exactly respects interns, which I know shouldn't be expected, but I hate that case work get shoved on me. I only got your extensive file last night."

"I can see that, your eyes say you only slept a few hours. Most interns are incompetent, but you seem to be sufficient at your work. I haven't killed you yet, so that's a good sign." We both laughed at this. He had put me in a position of security, be it false or not.

"So, about your scars? Take your time." I saw his smirk drop a bit. He was hoping I forgot. He sat for at least another 10 minutes staring before he took a deep breath.

"A deals a deal. When I was a child, I was attacked by cr….birds." He stopped himself at cr. It was crows. He was hoping that I hadn't noticed.

"Was it crows?"

"Yes, as embarrassing as it is, the scarecrow was attacked by crows. I would appreciate if that was just between us." He cheeks flushed a very little bit.

"Doctor/patient confidentiality." I leaned in. "It will be removed from our tape." I straightened up. "And where did the rest come from?"

"My Grandmother used to beat me. In fact, she was the reason I was attacked." He shuddered, but continued. "That is when my fascinating with fear started. She had inspired me, in a way. That's why I gave her the honor as my first test subject." He was completely amused with the memory of, which I assumed was, his Grandmother screaming. He was lost in himself for quite a bit.

"Dr Crane? I believe it's your turn."

"Yes, I guess so." He thought for a bit. "Miss Quinzel, what do you fear?" I knew this question was coming; I was surprised that it wasn't his first. His smirk was the biggest it had ever been, but somehow he wasn't smiling. It was more intimidating than anything. I sighed.

"Cockroaches have always bothered me. I don't know why, I just tense when I see them." I closed my eyes, pictured one and tried to shake it from myself. I could see he was stifling a laugh. "You know, I'm not one of the girls that starts yelling and screaming when I see a bug. I can deal with anything but cockroaches. I will kill them, but I can feel my skin crawling and tingling when I pick it up. Even through a tissue, I feel like it will kill me. I think it's more of what they represent; the dirt, disease. I have to wash my hands for five minutes and take out the garbage bag I put them. I have nightmares of them crawling out of my skin. I hate those damn things."He stared in complete amusement.

"That's horrible considering that your apartment building probably has more of them than people in the Narrows. Although, some could be considered both." This made me laugh audibly. He continued. "Anyways, I pinned you more as drowning or even fire."

"Not really. I don't fear death or pain. I have been surrounded by it my whole life, so I know what to expect."

"How very courageous of you." He said, slightly sarcastic.

"How about you, Dr. Crane, what does the master of fear, fear?" He was silent for a while. Our thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.

"Dr. Quinzel, your session was over 15 minutes ago. Dr. Thurman would like to see you in his office." Some namely orderly came in and began to strap up Crane. He continued to stare and I figured I wouldn't get an answer. I collected my things and was ready to leave at the same time as him. He looked at me deeply, cleared his throat and…

"The Scarecrow." At that, he was pulled away.

* * *

**Authors Note**: I had fun with this chapter. There is much more in the next. I am very excited with it and I hope you will be to. Thank you for reading and if you have the time, let me know what you think!


	4. This is what you should fear

CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

Over the next few months, I continued my sessions with Dr. Jonathan Crane. I made no progress as great as the day I found that he was abused. I had respected his wishes and I am still the only one that knows that he was attacked by crows. He never spoke again about fearing his other personality.

Thurman had harshly criticized my ways, saying that it was threatening my safety or some such lecture. Even though he had his reserves, he let me continue.

Pam and I became very close in working with his case, almost like sisters. We called each other constantly and met for lunch every couple of days. Her trip home had been postponed so she did successfully manufacture an antidote for Crane's fear toxin. She was in fact moving to Gotham, but she needed to head back to Seattle to gather her belonging and finally quit her job. Her boss had come to get her, she refused to fly alone.

"Red, you're going away for two months and you have one small bag. What the hell?"

"It's not like I am dressing to impress anyone, just cutting some lose ends. Can't exactly wear a skirt for that, can you?"

"You know I would." We both smiled at that. I was notorious for over dressing.

We entered the airport and checked her bag. I walked her to the security gate where she was going to meet her boss.

"There he is, over to the right." She spun around and waved to get his attention. He headed over.

"Well, this is my stop." She smiled weakly.

"Red, what am I going to do without you? You better keep you phone on and with you. I am supposed to get a new case in a few days and I have to have someone to bitch to. The sad thing is, I was starting to get used to ScareCrane." She laughed a little too loud, caught herself and looked completely embarrassed. She was too shy for her own good.

"That's a new one, Harls. I'll be seeing ya, don't forget me." We hugged tightly.

"'Red, I can't breathe!" She laughed again and released me.

"Oh! Harls, call me. Right now."

"What, _now_? You haven't even left the terminal and you miss me that much?" We giggled and I dialed her number. I began to hear a familiar song…

_Bill Nye, the Science Guy__, __Bill Nye, the Science Guy__, __Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill__, __Bill Nye, the Science Guy__"Science rules" Bill Nye, the Science Guy" Inertia is a property of matter"__Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill__Bill Nye, the Science Guy_

I nearly fell over laughing."What is that? I loved that show!"

"When Jon left, this was his parting gift. I haven't had the nerve to change it. I think of you every time I hear it." We hugged again and she ran after her boss.

* * *

Back at Arkham, I went to see Thurman. I was getting a new case today.

"Harleen, seeing the progress you have made with Crane, I have decided to reassign you to a more advanced case."

"Which case am I taking over, sir?" I hoping, no, praying that it wasn't our newest inmate. He was supposedly a genius who was recently caught impersonating a Detective at Gotham PD. Not exactly violent, but he loved games, mind games to be precise. I hated that.

"You will be taking over for the Joker." My heart dropped. He was worse, way worse. I was speechless and I know he saw.

"Harleen we have this argument before and if you recall, you did just fine."

"Sir, there are so many other doctors here that are more than qualified to be his psychologist, I am not among them."

"I have had every other qualified staff member talk to him and we still have nothing. We don't even have this man's name. I will not let this case get away from you; it will make your career. I have already had his files moved down to your office. You will be starting on Wednesday. Your last session with Crane is tomorrow. Make sure he knows." Wow, two whole days to master the Joker, what a treat.

The Joker was as crazy as they come. He killed countless, ripped off the entire mob in one shot, blew up Gotham General, had a major part in Harvey Dent's death and nearly killed the Batman. How was I going to take down this man? And, I had to drop Crane's case. Not that he liked me, he just hated me less than he hated everybody else, how that was possible, I will never know.

* * *

There wasn't much in the Joker's file. A few notes about his appearance, numerous scar stories and his known crimes but that was it except for a mug shot. I wasn't expecting to see it, so when I turned the page and his grin stared back at me, my mouth fell open.

This picture had gotten down to my core and made it shiver. This man was completely terrifying. If I ever talked to Crane again, I'll make sure to add the Joker to the list of fears.

His skin was extremely pale, his hair, tinted green hung in his face. His eyes were brown but completely empty. They were more terrifying than his distorted scars. I had seen with his make-up, but I honestly didn't think he was that creepy. His head was tilted to the right a bit and he wore an expression that spelled out dangerous and it told me how little remorse he really had. And I would be alone in room with this man tomorrow.

* * *

I decided on a parting gift of sorts, I would bring Crane a home cooked meal, well whatever the special was at the deli. I walked into the cafeteria and spotted him sitting at a table off in the corner with some of his old colleges, but he was reduced to eating the mush they insisted was food. I walked over and sat down.

"Ah, Miss Quinzel, I heard you are being transferred to the Jokers case. Congrats. I would watch your chest if I was you." He smirked again. Did he ever stop smirking?

"You mean about the last guy? Yea, I won't be taking notes." The last therapist had the pen he was writing with shoved through his chest cavity. Punctured a lung, Joker said it was because he wasn't focusing. "Anyways, I figured you would want something to eat other than shit and dust flavored oatmeal." I handed him a bag with a cheeseburger, fries and a bottle of Pepsi. His eyes lit up and he looked like he hadn't eaten in years, "You could stand to gain some weight, one of these days, you are going to just blow away" He choked out some insult through his burger, hardly taking time to chew.

"I have decided to expand my list of fears. He is now on the list." He laughed and swallowed.

"What's his rank?"

"Cockroaches are still number one, but he is very close second." I smiled and left him in his solidarity. I almost reached the door when I heard singing and quickly headed back to the table.

"If I only had a brain I would not just be a nuffin', my head all full of stuffin', my heart all full of pain..." Three of our newer "members" continued with their song as Crane stood frozen with his hands in fists. He was mumbling and I knew what was coming.

"Jonathan, come on, let's go." I tried to pull him along with all my might, but he didn't budge. For being extraordinarily skinny, he weighted enough. I saw his eyes narrow an I knew he was the Scarecrow now and frankly, it scared the hell out of me. The orderlies were nowhere to be found and his former colleges had all managed to scatter. I just hoped they were getting help. I grabbed after his arm and he started to walk closer to them. He was actually dragging me.

"Scarecrow, they're not worth it." He pushed me to the ground and lunged at them. Within 30 seconds all three were on the ground, two of which were unconscious and the other was screaming. So much for him being scrawny. He then made his way over to me, and I finally relaxed. It was over.

His long fingered hand reached down towards me and I reached out a hand, but he continued towards my neck. It wasn't over. He lifted me up as all of my air drained from me. I began to see white spots.

"Do…not… interrupt me." He voice had gone deeper, or so it sounded to me. I was falling, felt his weight on my chest and then black.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Yes, I am evil. I only will end on cliffhangers because it only seems proper. Thank you to all of my reviewers and readers. I am glad people are enjoying it. I m enjoying writing it. This chapter has a somewhat awkward interact betwen Red and Harley. I rewrote that scene several times and this was as good as it got. Red will be mentioned throught the next few chapters. I did however, LOVE the ending. I had a fun time writing it and everytime I read it I get a warm fuzzy feeling. Scarecrow makes me happy when he comes out of his hiding place. Thanks again for reading and for reviewing!

**Disclaimer:** I do not nor claim to own the following. I do however, suggest you listen to the first one on Youtube. I still love that show!

Bill Nye the Science Guy Theme

Scarecrows Song from Wizard of Oz


	5. Make your Victim my Head

CHAPTER FIVE

* * *

"Har…, Harleen… Harleen can you hear me?" It was one of our nurses. She was a sweet older lady, if I remembered correctly. I had ice on both my head and neck. "You gave us quite a scare. Johnny had you pinned to the floor. No, don't sit up, you might have a concussion. Can you name all the states that start with the letter M?

"Um.." My throat hurt and it was even worse when I tried talking. "Michigan, Minnesota, Maine, Massachusetts, um… is that all of them?" I could barely hear myself whispering. I rubbed my head and felt some of the blood matted into my hair. I don't remember that at all. "When did…" She cut me off.

"After you passed out, he um… hit your head off the floor. A few times. You are very lucky, if Dave hadn't come in, I am afraid we would have lost you." I sat up slowly as possible. She tried to push me back but I held up my hand in protest. I felt like I was going to pass out, but I pushed on. I looked around and saw the men from earlier. They were all lying with bandages and ice on their heads. The ring leader looked horrible, both eyes swollen shut and a fat lip. But Crane was missing, was he alright?

"Where is he?"

"High security solitary but he is heavily medicated. No need to go up there."

"Thanks, Jodie. I'll see you soon." I headed up to Thurman's office. The rooms around me became fuzzy, but with the wall's assistance, I made it just fine.

"Harleen, what are you doing out of bed? You need rest." He had been sweating profusely, about me? Probably not. He was angry that I was hurt, not that I wasn't resting.

"I am heading home, I called myself a cab. I can't trust myself to drive, but otherwise I'll be fine; I just need to rest in my bed. What exactly happened to Crane?"

"Well, as far as I know, they were taunting him, he turned into Scarecrow, and when you tried to stop him, he saw you as a threat. You did the right thing but almost paid dearly for it. When we sedated him. It took two and a half doses to get him down. He kept repeating something about not liking to be teased. Now, enough! Go home and get some rest. Crane and the Joker can wait. We have people to handle them."

" Goodbye, Dr. Thurman."

I had the cabie take for some fast food and swung back to Arkham. I walked up to solitary and had an orderly escort me into Crane's cell. He was still out cold, but I stuck his cheeseburger next to him in the corner. He was heavily restrained and his chin was pressing down to his chest

I finally went home. I took damn near the whole bottle of aspirin to dull the pain in my skull. I had to wash the blood out of my hair, so I headed into the shower. Only then did I notice my neck.

It was completely black and blue in the shape of his hands. I lifted my shirt and my chest was bruised to match my neck, except they looked like a pair of knees dung into my ribs. I felt them, they were bruised too, but to my knowledge, not broken. I was very lucky, thank God I wasn't conscience during that. I hurried through my shower and tried to read some of the Joker's files, but I had a hard time concentrating. I figured it could wait. I dozed off within a few minutes.

* * *

I woke up, well rested, got ready and headed off to work. I didn't remember what happened until I went to get my car, which was still at the hospital. Since I was ready, I figured I should just go in. Everyone was surprised to see me, especially Dr. Thurman. I told him I forgot, but he was still angry. It seems like he is only ever angry or changing my cases. How boring.

He was also angry that I went into Cranes cell, but it didn't matter. In the end, he sent me home and told me I could return in two more days. He also handed me some of the taped Joker interviews to keep me busy and a short evaluation. At least I had something to do.

On my way home, I decided I should call Red. I hadn't talked to her since she had taken off.

"Red, it's Harls. Give me a call back when you get this. I worried about you, and I kind of miss you. You won't believe what happened with ScareCrane. Good stuff. Talk to you soon, love ya."

* * *

I popped the first tape in, not really expecting anything spectacular, but boy was I wrong. The doctor made sure to note the day, time, patient number, and the like. When he moved from the screen, the Joker sat at his side of the table. His hands and feet were handcuffed together and his chair was bolted to the ground. He eyes looked right into the camera and he gave a smirk and a wink; no gesture had ever made the hairs on my neck stand-up, but this did. The first thing I noticed is how he was sizing up the doctor, eyeing his prey. He had animal instincts, at best. Before he started to talk, his tongue had to be shown. Depending on the situation, it darted out of one side or it would make a long sweep over his top lip. Every tiny thing he did with his body was intentional; he had complete control.

The doctor started with small talk and the Joker began to play along. His sarcasm was heavy, but the doctor misread it as sincerity. He continued to take notes, and the Joker talked and giggled to himself. He even made a few exaggerated hand motions just for the camera, winking every few sentences. Nothing more notable on this one, except how he ended the session. He asked our doctor some very personal questions until he found the nerve he was looking for. Once he hit on to his wife, the Joker would not let up; he knew the perfect thing to say to get a rise. He knew everyone's flaw; their Achilles heel. When the doctor lunged at him, the orderlies had to carry him out. The Joker sat in his chair until they came back for him. The Joker stood up and took a bow for the camera and it turned to static.

The next few tapes followed the same format; he played with his food a bit, chewed it and then spit it out. Most left in tears. Some he even became violent with. He had slipped through his cuffs three times and even watching on tape, I couldn't see that he was doing it. This one had ended in his latest therapist being stabbed.

If the man hadn't been seriously injured, I would kind of find it amusing. The Joker was spinning off stories quicker than I could even understand what he was saying and soon he went silent. When the doctor continued with his notes, he became angry. He slipped from his cuffs, grabbed the pen, inspected it, leaned it, and shoved it as far as it would go. It happened in a blink of an eye, this man had talent. He smiled and said "I advise you pay attention next time, uh, assuming there is one." He sat back in his chair and waited for the monitors to notice. He was back in his cuffs and continued talking. I don't know if this doctor ever left alive.

* * *

Author's Note: Yea, this one doesn't have a cliffhanger but It does have a bit of build up for Harley's first meeting with the Joker. It's not as interesting as I would like, but most of ot serves a purpose fpr future chapters. I will be update probably on Sunday. I have actually hit a major wall as far as my story goes. I have plenty of ideas, I just don;t know which way to take it. That is why I wrote my story in advance because writer block will always happen.

Thank you again to all of my reviewers and my followers, I really appriciate it so much. If you do have any suggestions, please let me know.


	6. Can't put your head together again

CHAPTER SIX

* * *

The day finally came when I was to meet with the Joker. I didn't sleep well; I had many nightmares about psychotic clowns, murderous scarecrows and, for some reason, cheeseburgers, but I did my best to look presentable. I covered as many bruises as possible with clothing but there were a few I couldn't so I opted for makeup. It had taken for ever to get them to look passable, but I guess it didn't matter.

I walked strait to security and had them get the Joker. Now was not the time for Thurman to get in my way. I gathered my files, locked them in my office, making sure there was nothing on my person that could be used as a weapon. I checked through the security window if he was there and only then did I truly understand what I was getting myself into. He sat straight up and looked completely amused with something I could not see. He wasn't laughing so much as snickering as if he knew the fun that would follow. His scars looked completely horrifying but I wanted nothing more to touch them, to see what they felt like, I would, however never have that courage.

I took a deep breath, checked myself once more and entered. "Hello, my name is Doctor Har-" He held up a hand to silence me. He slowly reached over and plucked my ID from its holder. He read everything there in silence, turned it over

"Yes, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, famous scarecrow wrangler." He gave a small smile but his eyes were drawn and distant, he wasn't being kind, I could see it.

"No, I mean, I am your psychiatrist, for the time being. I am still interning but I have earned my degree. "

"How efficient of you, Harrrleey." He played with the syllables for a while, drawing out may name a bit too long. It sent chills up my spine and he noticed. He turned his head slightly to the right, making his eyes stand out and the emptiness inside them.

"So, Mr. Joker, well… what exactly _should_ I call you? I don't have any other names, what would you prefer?"

"Seeing as we are, uh, the only two _people _in the room, I think I will know who you are talking to, unless, _you_ see anyone else, doc. Do you?" His tongue darted out every now and again. It was like it had a mind of its own but it seemed to fit him and seem to add emphasis to what he was saying. He finished with a mock smile and sat back, waiting for me to take the bait. He was still holding my card. Did he plan to use _that_ as a weapon?

"Of course not. Is there anything you would like to talk about, is anything bothering you before we start?"

"Not a thing, Harley. You know, your name, it's just, like, me."

"What do you mean?" I was really confused and I hoped it wasn't going to be one of those god awful motorcycle jokes. I hated those.

"Harleen Quinzel. Harley Quinzel. Harley Quinn. Harlequin. See, a clown, a jester of sorts. All ya have to do is work it a bit." He slid my card across the table to me.

"Very clever, I haven't heard that one before. But don't think I am exactly like you." I replaced it on my holder and straightened my shirt.

"How so, because you're sane and I'm not, hmm?" He leaned back, putting his hands behind his head, clearly trying to show off that he had removed the cuffs.

"No. I believe you are perfectly sane." I rubbed my neck and tilted it to the side, all the while staring into his eyes with a slight smirk.

"Hmm, that makes two of us. What makes you so sure?" I had peaked his interest. Perfect.

"Insanity implies that you don't know that your actions are moral and legally wrong. You understand what you do, you know why you do it, and you know it is seen by the law as wrong. You know exactly what you are doing." He looked either impressed or angry, and I, unfortunately, couldn't tell the difference. "We are different because I chose to follow the rules and norms of a society. I chose to take the safer road. You enjoy chaos and anarchy, I enjoy…" What do I enjoy, really, what was fun in my life? "…getting to know why people do what they do, I to get inside people's heads."

"I would be careful, you may not, uh, life what you find." He pointed up to his temple and tapped it a few times.

"I'm sure I would enjoy anyone's mind, no matter how… different." I cleared my throat. "I have a slight obsession with complete understanding. That is why I do what I do. While working here, I can get inside the mind of our inmates and hopefully see why they do what they do. Your mind is of particular interest to me. I really love a good challenge." I held myself in complete confidence but underneath my mask, I was terrified of this man. The worst part of it was that he was so convincing, so sincere and believable that it looked like he even believed what he was saying.

"Hmm… a woman" He paused dramatically. "who is efficient _and _likes a challenge? What more could I ask for?" He smiled slyly and tilted his head. He was setting the stage. "Now that I have thought about it, I would love a good dose of, uh, chaos. You think ya could write me a prescription, doc?" The introduction. I was a wreck at this point. I was so nervous I began to perspire and I can feel my hands start to shake. I tried to hide it as best possible.

"What attracts you to chaos so much? It is based in mayhem which leads to all established order falling. No rules or norms hold true and the group is destined to fail."

"Ah, you have answered your own question and there in lays the beauty. People are so dependent on their 'rules'; take them away and everyone can't stand the freedom." He clicked his tongue. The sudden noise made me jump and I tried to cover it up by rubbing my neck, but I am sure he had seen. "It shows how unstable the, uh, system really is."

"A society depends on its rules as people depend on their conscience. It keeps one in check what is right or wrong. It keeps the balance."

"But, uh, who sets these…boundries of right and wrong? If everything that is now considered evil was removed from the world, would we not find evil in everyday gestures? Face Harley, we all need a bit of evil in our lives." He smiled. He really knew his shit. The scary part was that it all made sense it you just thought about it. He knew I was thinking about what he said and taking it all into consideration. He was too convincing, I just need to steer away the topic.

"You are quite the philosopher, Mr. uh…Joker."

"No, not , that was my father." He gave a little wink and smiled a bit. It only took a second or two for us to reach hysterical laughter. It _was_ funny, I guess that's where he got his name. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping for a name, or at least another alias.

"Well, Joker is too… formal. How about J instead?"

"As you wish." He did a mock bow. They were right, he really was into theatrics. I smiled in recognition.

"Back to your chaos theory. I know you base some of your behaviors chaos. For example, the little social experiment with the ferries last year." At this he smiled with what I suppose were good memories. He looked kind when he was happy. I continued. "Chaos is spontaneous and can be used to control people through confusion. How is it that you can make something so unpredictable and have a plan for any possible outcome?" He leaned in close, like he was telling me a closely guarded secret.

"I don't plan. They can ruin you." He stated.

"How so?"

"If a plan doesn't work or it turns in a completely different direction…" He paused. Pair that with the emphasis on certain words, well time slaps of his distorted lips, and the darting of his tongue and I was completely disturbed but I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Such a fascinating man and his mannerisms seemed so perfectly place in his sentence that they drove his point home. "Okay, well, let's say one of my men is killed off, I don't worry who will do his job, where I'm gonna get a new one, or if another one may get picked off, I just…" He cleared his throat. "I go on with the show. I go with the flow of whatever maybe happening. I do what needs to be done."

"Are you saying that you don't plan anything out? I mean most of what you have done would require an intense amount of preplanning and organization. For example…" I trailed off and had to consult my notes. He had caused so much of his beloved chaos in the weeks he had been out. . His records only had crimes documented during that time and it was thicker than some that detail a life's worth of crime. Not to mention everything that he had done that wasn't credited to him or simply ignored.

I scanned and scanned. Nothing stood out that would require intense planning. He sat patiently, enjoying my struggle. "Ah, yes." I exclaimed. This was absolutely perfect and was sure to get him.

"Ummhuh?" He didn't look the least bit shocked.

"When blowing up Gotham General, you didn't plan on hijacking a bus full of 50 some odd doctors, make a news broadcast, switch outfits so predator looked like prey, and even fit in your social experiment?" He smirked and licked the corner of his mouth.

"Yea, the explosives planned but the bus was sheer luck. It was the flip of the coin, if you will." His lips turned upward as if he was trying to hold something in but his maniacal laughter soon won out. I watched passively as small tears form in the corner of his eyes. He slowed enough to speak again. "I was hoping on the news broadcast, but I figured I would just grab a stray cop or something. Hehe, the anchor man worked wonderfully." He stopped as if he was remembering what the next question was. "Ah, the uh, switch around wasn't planned but I liked the idea so much I just HAD to. The ferries were semi planned. I had really hoped to use them so I had them set up just in case but, as you surely know, that was ruined by our dear dark knight."

"You do seem to have an unusal… interest in him. Why was your goal to have him remove his mask?"

"Harley, Harley, Harley. I think you have asked enough questions for today." He smiled a knowing smile.

"What makes you say that J?"

"That surly looking man behind the two way back there." He pointed. His handcuffs had been replaced. I turned and I could make out the slightest out line of Thurman and J was right, he looked pissed. He motioned for me to come over.

"Right again, J. I guess this finishes our session for today. I will see you tomorrow."

"Harley?"

"Hmm?"

"Your neckwear is lovely. Bruises suit you well, shows off your eyes." He began laughing again. How did he see them? I turned to the mirror and all of the makeup had been wiped off or at least smear enough to see Crane's fingerprints "See ya, Harley.' He smirked and waited for the orderly to come and get him.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I really enjoyed this chapter, but it was written in parts, I hope the flow is alright. I have to apologize for the super long wait. My computer was attacked by a Trojan, which literally ate everything. I was able to get back in and salvage three save states of my story and thankfully it was all there. Thank you again to all of my reviews, I really appreciate it, it really does make my day! Thanks and hope you enjoyed!


	7. I'm gonna use you and abuse you

CHAPTER SEVEN

* * *

"Harley, you are starting to lose your judgment. I feel like I have to reprimand you more and more frequently. I hope this isn't becoming a habit?"

"Absolutely not, sir. I just missed a few days and I wanted to dive in as soon as possible to make up for that time. "

"You were almost beaten to death, visit your attacker the same night to bring him food, and enter a face-to-face with the Joker unsupervised? Either your extremely brave or you have a death wish. Either way, you need my permission from now on before talking to any of our patients. Don't look so disappointed. It's not like I'm going to say no, I just want to make sure you are well protected. "

"Yes, sir." That was all I could muster in rage but I somehow managed to stay professional. I really wanted to stay on this case and saying what I really thought wasn't going to help me any.

"What am I supposed to do now, I really am having a problem with trusting you and I haven't even talked about the session itself. You have pet names for each other, which I needn't mention is becoming too involved with a patient and in your first session?!? I am speechless." If only that was the truth. H never knew when to shut up

"And there was no supervision. If he had attacked you, you could have had a repeat of the other day, but knowing him, he would have finished the job. " He finally became silent, weighing his options and reached his decision. If he only knew about him removing my ID card. The thought gave me shivers all over, but wasn't from fear, it was happiness.

"You really are a good doctor, Harleen, and you have amazing potential, but..." The one word I didn't want to hear. My heart sunk and I was ready to quit on the spot. This was supposed to fix my career but if I was going to be stuck fixing minor cases, I might as well get a cell of my own. I finally decided to listen what he had to say"…and your probably not the best for him. I am, however, going to keep you assigned to him." I couldn't believe it, my jaw fell slack.

"Why?"

"Well, first off, he clearly removed his cuffs and restraint and made no attempt to harm you. He also didn't verbally assault you, which has never happened before. We also heard a bit more from him and the way he thinks. I am hoping you can get something more significant in your next few sessions." He fell silent as a look of concern crossed his face.

"Harleen, I am worried about your safety. Whatever you have seen of this man cannot be trusted. As his profile said, his is constantly reinventing himself. He could be fine one day and the next back into his psychosis. You must check in with me before you council him. You are also going to have two armed guards outside of the door and one inside at all times. Your sessions will be the regulation hour for now. I also am removing your security access to his cell. I don't need any mishaps" He was done now, I however wasn't, but my mind was moving at such an amazing pace. Between J and my anger, I could barely walk out of the room.

I went straight to my office to try and sort out my thoughts. Apparently, Thurman didn't trust me. What, did he think that I was going to run up and break him out or that I was going throw myself at him? THE IGNORANCE OF MEN, I could barely stand it.

Why had J responded so well to my approach? I mean I didn't do too much that was different than the others. As odd of a possibility it was, maybe he was physically attracted to me. Not that I was beautiful, it's just he has been locked up for almost a year. Maybe he was lonely? And my bruises, how did he notice and what would be my response? Ah, it didn't matter anyways, he would forget by tomorrow. His file says his thoughts move fast enough that most of what is said is lost. He does have small memory lapses.

The part that was getting to me the most was that his theories were making sense to me. Why? I have no idea, but I felt clarity about the world that I had never experienced before.

* * *

"Dr. Thurman, is it alright if I attend our therapy session now?" I managed to spit though my clenched teeth. He didn't notice.

"Yes, the Joker is already in the session room and your guards are waiting. Can you talk to me when you're finished?" I nodded my head in recognition and left.

I went into the observation room to watch what he was doing and as expected, he was sitting still as a statue staring at the exact spot I was standing. It was now or never.

"Harley, how nice it is to see you. I have to say, it is quite a surprise." He said with a knowing smirk.

"What do you mean?" I asked, forgetting my professional demeanor.

"Well, I was quite sure they were going to remove you from my case. Not many have lasted this long." He paused and looked over towards the mirror and his eyes slowly drifted back to me. I was waiting for him to explain. "They don't believe in ya, do they Harley? They dismiss you ideas and live only by their own. I figure I won't be meeting with you for therapy anymore."

"How so?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions, don't ya Harley-girl?" He paused for only a second and continued. "Taking in our audience..." He motioned to the armed guard and the numerous doctors behind the glass. "…that you obviously don't want, the anger in your eyes and the fact that your heart rate is steadily climbing as I continue." I slammed my fists onto the table and stood.

"You are absolute-"

"No, I am right. How'd ya get 'em?" He asked.

"What? Get what?" I spat.

"Temper Harley, temper." He shook a finger at me, utterly amused. "Sit down or we will never get to finish our session." I listened. This madman was giving instructions, that I willingly took. And the sad part? He was right. How was he more in touch with my emotions than I was.

"Thank you." I mouthed. He only blinked in recognition.

"You are avoiding my question."

"How did I get what?

"Your bruises. They are truly a piece of art and added quite skillfully" He smirked. He was still in his restraints, probably due to the small army watching his every move. His irritation was starting to show. I figured that the truth was the best road to take. I didn't need another set.

"They, um, they were-"

"And I suggest you don't lie, Dr. Quinzel. I am not known for my patience." He cracked his neck and resumed his stare. The orderly stepped forward and aimed the butt of his gun against his head.

"Clown, I wouldn't be threatening the doctor. You are in quite a position." He pulled back his gun, about to strike. I rushed over to him, stopping him mid strike with my hand. I heard something crack but continued.

"Enough, Lyle. He did nothing wrong. Just back off." I spat, letting some of my aggression go. J just stared at us unblinking and looking like this was the most fun he had in months. I cradled my hand and continued the conversation, mentally blocking the pain in my more than likely, my fractured hand.

" I got them from a patient here. I was trying to break up a fight. There were no..." I shot an angry look over to the infuriated Lyle "…no orderlies around. I also received a concussion."

"The work of Crane, or should I say Scarecrow? He always favored strangling a little too much. I not one to speak though, I am a man of knives." He said with pride.

"I know, I have seen your work." I offered no expression but I was so confused. How had he known everything? From Crane to the fact that any moment I may be removed from his case, I just hope I got a few more sessions out of him. I hope he was wrong about today.

It was silent for quite a while as my thoughts raced and J decided it would be appropriate to stare at either me or the people behind the mirror. Now that I had gotten to know this man, he didn't unnerve me quite as much as he had yesterday but I was nowhere near crazy enough to trust him.

"Are you ready to say goodbye to my case?"

"Absolutely not." He tsked at me, shaking his head from side to side.

"See, I thought you were a smart girl. Harley, I am not fixable because I am not broken, I just see the world in a different light. I hate order and control. That can't be fixed with a couple a pills."

"I know. I never said I wanted to fix you, in fact I think I already said you weren't broken. I just enjoy the way you think." Did I just say that out loud? He made a face that was half shocked and completely amazed. I had to stop before I said anything else. I decided that I would leave very shortly. Nothing in this session had gone the way I wanted. I reached into my pocket and pulled out what I had for him.

"What's this?" He asked as a slid a pack of cards across the table. I could see Lyle eyeing it warily.

"Something for your good behavior. I figured you would want something to keep yourself entertain in your cell." I smiled as he opened it and did a quick fan through the cards and began to shuffle then. I guess that was his nervous habit. "I hope to be seeing you very soon J. I'm sorry I have to cut this short." He knew what I was talking about and did a slight bow of his head.

"Harley, we won't be seeing each other for a long time. Then again, ya never know." He smiled and reached out a hand a still cuffed hand. I was taken aback by this gesture and it took a while for me to process what he was doing. I slow reached my hand over to grab his.

His skin was warmer than expected, why did I think it would be cold? He was human after all. I did realize until I pulled away that he had slipped something into my sleeve. I pretended nothing happen and left the room. I was half way to Thurman's office when I heard a deep and sadistic laughter. I knew it was him and I felt an odd connection. I had to duck into the bathroom to stifle my own laughter. I went into an empty stall, sat down and pulled out whatever J had given me.

* * *

**Author's Note**: We are finally starting to get the ball rolling. This a great chapter, I really enjoyed writing it. I wasn't going to upload until I got home (I am on vacation for the next few days) but today is my birthday and I decided I should share a present with you all!


	8. The time has come for bitter things

CHAPTER EIGHT

* * *

It was a small wad of tissue paper. I careful pulled back the delicate edges to reveal a small tea rose. It was a brilliant red color and the tips had been frosted with a metallic black; when held in the light, it sparkled. Beneath that was a tiny note that read:

_Come up and see me sometime. _

_-J_

How did he manage this? I mean, the note was easy, but the tiny rose? He must have some connections inside or he had scared the right people. I had to laugh. He had gone through all the trouble just for me? The note that wasn't specific, it was just a broad invitation to visit him? I guess this is what he meant when he said he would see me soon.

I had to report this. If I didn't, we both could be ruined and I would be removed from the case for sure. I had made up my mind. I was going to see Thurman anyways. I would just have to tell him delicately. I set it in my bag carefully. Maybe I would keep the rose, I mean a rose couldn't hurt anyone right? I mean if I told him about that, J would be in even more trouble and so would who ever helped him. But the note was different, Thurman had to know.

I knocked on the door and entered without a response. "Dr, Thurman, you wanted to see me?"

"Harleen. Yes, please sit down." He answered with a short tone. Something had happened that really pissed him off.

"Well, I think our session went well. I mean, I didn't get anything that I wanted from him but if he trusts me and our relationship-" I pulled my body in and starting shutting the door.

"Relationship?!?" he yelled, louder than I have ever heard. "You are his doctor, not his play thing. He is prepping you so _you_ trust _him_. Then he will attack. I don't know if you noticed, but he has attacked every other therapist that he has seen. Most are still in the hospital. You shouldn't think you are special." I was boiling but I had to remember what J said and he was right, if I didn't control my temper… well, nothing good would come out of it, but after hearing his little speech, the note slipped from my mind. The secret would stay between J and I.

"I'm sorry, sir. It really isn't like that. I don't trust him at all, I just want to help him. If that means lying to him and myself, then so be it. I have always put patients before myself and I don't plan on changing that." He sighed and I relaxed a bit.

"I know. That is what makes you a good doctor. And that is also why we have evaluated you and removed you from his case. This matter is closed."

"Who exactly 'evaluated` me? And do I have the right know why I have been removed from this case? I did nothing wrong and two sessions aren't exactly telling of what may happen." I screamed. Forget my anger. I had lost J, what else could I lose? I wasn't going back to treating sad little teens that don't know the meaning of problems.

"We had many of the administration in the room earlier, such as Dr. Leland and Dr. Arkham. Everyone in attendance agreed that you were becoming attached and becoming vulnerable to his attacks. You have put you self in danger as well as other doctors. There were numerous signs that you put off; the relationship has been deemed more than professional. Harley, he likes you and I am not going to risk you life over this."

"I am more than capable of handling myself. Do not worry about me."

"Frankly, Harleen, we see a connection on your side too. I mean, you gave the man a pack of playing cards without proper authorization and a screening. How were we to know that there wasn't something dangerous in there?"

"How does that prove that I love him?" I yelled. It was weird, as soon as I uttered the words, my lips began to tingle like it was a secret that desperately needed to be silenced. But there was no way, I fear him, not love him.

"I need you to look at this." He spun his chair around and pointed to his VCR. He apparently was prepared for this with, what I presumed, was the interrogation video. I leaned in for a closer look.

He fast forwarded through most of the interview to where I had said goodbye and paused it when J had reached out his hand. Did he know about the note? Was he giving me one last chance to tell him the truth? I held my breath.

"I needn't mention that many of your comments were unprofessional and unwarranted, as with your actions with Lyle, but this was unacceptable." He hit play. My body tensed as I watched myself hesitate and I slowly reached my hand to his.

I could see the surprise on my face when our skin touched, but I notice something I was unaware of. My body relaxed after he touched me. We also weren't shaking hands, we held them in the air but they were stationary. We were holding hands and I had not realized. My thumb was rubbing the top of his hand slightly and his was doing the same to mine. I gasped and moved my hand over my mouth, shaking my head in disbelief. I also noticed that when I walked out of the room, he had been watching me intently,well, until Lyle decided to hit him with the butt of his gun. J barely winched but made a face that both Thurman and I saw. We shivered almost simultaneously.

"I…I don't know what that was about. I swear it was just a hand shake." I was more talking to myself than I was to him.

"You have been moved back down to outpatient therapy. There is a young woman named…" He paused and checked his chart. "Sydney waiting for you. You two are in room 133." He just jumped from one subject to the next and he was clearly not interested in my plight. I sighed and just looked at him, tear welling in the corners of my eyes. "I have also made an appointment for you to see someone for a few counseling services. I know this has to be hard on you, but please, just suck it up and finish your day."

"Fine, but consider this my 2 week notice!" I shouted, slamming the door behind me and heading downstairs for my dreaded patient. As expected, she was a perfectly built, beautiful young woman talking away on her phone and stopping every few minutes to text. I called her over and we began our conversation.

I put on my very best happy face and greeted this girl. She must have only been 15 or 16, but with her clothes and makeup she looked much, much older. I introduced myself and we began our conversation.

"So, Syd, what is bothering you right now?" I asked, my voice dull and lacking any interest at all. She apparently didn't catch on to that.

"Um, well, as you can see, I have a problem with acne." I brought my eyes to her skin, her blemish less skin. She bit her lip and she began to rub her face self-consciously.

"Tell me how that makes you feel." I mocked. She didn't catch on to that either. She wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in J's pocket. I giggled at my joke.

"What…whats so funny. Everyone hates me because I'm ugly!" She screamed. I was done, I was quitting, so why shouldn't I have a bit of fun?

"Aw, sweetie, I was laughing with you, people can be so mean, right?" I scooted over to her side of the table, ducked down, and put an arm on her shoulder. I offered her a drink of water and resumed my position. "I wouldn't be worried about your acne…" I paused and took a sip of my coffee. Her face lit up. I knew it, she was only looking for attention.

"Really?" She asked and started playing with her hair.

"Of course, you are such a special person. I mean who _wouldn't_ want to be your friend." My voice laced with sarcasm but he smile got even brighter. "Syd, I know why you are here. You want me to tell you how pretty you are. It's okay, no need to lie." She looked shocked at first and slowly started to shake her head. Now was the fun part. "Here, come with me. I know how to really cheer you up." I grabbed her arm and pulled towards our inevitable fun.

___________________

**Author's Note: **Yea, not my favorite, but it has a good cliffhanger. Let me just say that the next chapter should more than make up for it. It is one of my favorites, probably the second best. Anyways, thank you guys for all of the reviews, they really make me happy.

A special thanks to:

Blackmoonlite

Madelineex3

Nixie-doodle

Rachael C.


	9. Now I found you, it's almost too late

CHAPTER NINE

* * *

"This is our high security ward, the east wing." I twirled like I was showing her my home; my face showed my excitement and pride. I walked closer to a cell. Instead of the regular barred doors, these had glass windows that would slide to allow a single person in. I knocked on the glass.

"Mr. Zsasz, are you awake?" His deep blue eyes shot open as he turned to look at us. I had met him in the past, but never for therapy. He sat up and began to smile. I returned the favor. "Glad to see you are getting your rest." I pulled Syd by her wrist, bringing her close enough to touch the glass.

"Hello, Clarice." He paused. "You look…to die for… and who is your delectable friend?" He asked licking his lips. I pushed her forward, which took her by surprise. I whispered. "Go on, don't be rude. Can't ya tell that he likes you? He did call you delectable." I smiled a wide grin. She looked terrified.

"Dr. Lector." I decided to play along, what could it hurt? It made him laugh anyways. Wasn't that my job, to make the inmates happier? "This is Sydney. She thinks she ugly, I thought you might want to cheer her up." I nudged her even closer. I lean into her ear again. "I think you should remember Victor Zsasz. He was imprisoned for mass murder." I nudged her again and she began to shake.

"Oh, Sydney, my dearest, why don't get a little closer? I can almost smell you from here… Is that strawberry?" He smiled to match mine. This man was quite unnerving and I hoped I was making my point.

"Thank you, Zsasz. We do have to be going." I felt her sigh of relief. "But the next time Syd here comes for therapy, we'll be sure to come visit." She tensed again. Oh, Crane was right, fear was wonderful and testing its limits? Pure bliss. Speaking of, he would love to meet my dear friend. We continued to his cell.

"Cr-" I stopped myself. He wouldn't react to anything but his true title. "Dr. Crane?" He walked away from his only window and approached us. He kept his icy demeanor. "Dr. Crane, this is my patient. Her name is-"

"Her name is of no consequence to me. Her fear, however, is showing and that is all I care about." He smirked and rubbed his hands together. I moved as close to him as possible and pulled her with me. She was in a state of shock.

"Well, we _did _stop and visit Zsasz. He seems to be smitten with her. She's not taking it well, though. I brought her here because she thinks she's ugly." I made a motion of rubbing the fake tears from my eyes. I saw him smile. It suited him. "So, I wanted to get your professional opinion."

"I think she is a dolt. That's my formal ruling." He crossed his arms and she was shaking again. I made sure she knew his history and she shut her eyes.

"Oh, don't do that. I haven't showed you the best part." One eye opened to focus on me. I lifted my head so she could see the bruises around my neck. Both eyes we now open, staring at my new neckware. I liked the sound of that "Yep, these _and_ a concussion. They were parting gifts from him." I smiled again. He motioned for me to come closer. I pushed her to the wall and let her sit down. She put her head in her hands.

"Harleen, we like the new you. What happened?"

"Oh, I was pulled from a case and I have given my notice. I might as well have fun while I have to be here."

"And you are showing of your present." He smiled and a laughed a bit. "I am sorry about that, but my, ehm, ulter ego can-"

"No need to apologize. Forgive and forget."

"Well, I loved both of my presents. Dinner was great but-" He motioned to the shaking girl "the show was perfect. Thanks." I walked over and pulled her up. She resisted a bit but soon gave up. "Where are you two off to now?"

"To see a good friend." I winked and he resumed his position at the window.

"Can..can we..p…please leave..n..n…now?"

"Nope. We have a very close friend of mine to visit and you are done for today." We walk to the end of the hall, to the very last cell. I knocked on the window lightly, prepping my widest grin.

"Harrrleeyyy, what a wonderful and completely unexpected surprise. But I did recognize your heels, what a lovely beat they make." His lips upturned as my name sent shivers down my spine yet again. I was starting to like it. He stepped out of the shadows dramatically. Her eyes went wide and she started to slowly step backwards. His grin grew. Tears started to well in her eyes and she fell to the floor, covering her head and mumbling to herself. Mission complete.

I walked closer to him and put my hand against the glass. "I will be back a little bit later, I have to tell you something." I ducked down and grabbed Syd. I put an arm around her shoulder and took her back to our session room as she sobbed uncontrollably.

* * *

I finished her admission papers. Hospitalization reasoning? Extreme and violent reaction to real world stimuli. That should do it. For some reason, I don't think her acne would be her main complaint anymore.

I finished the rest of my cases, but I figured I better keep my special routine for special people on special occasions. I was in an unusually happy and giddy mood. I couldn't keep my thoughts from J. He was right, rules really held a person back. I felt so open, so light, so… free.

Everything that happened I was able to connect back to him. It was starting to become an obsession. And then it hit. I loved him. I was in love with a psychopathic, mass murdering, terroristic clown. And I didn't know why. I mean, it's not like we had dated or even exchanged kind words. It's just, they way he thought. I loved his mind. I suppressed my thoughts and focused on what I had to tell him.

Would he be angry as I was that I was removed from his case? I know he predicted it but predicting it and it becoming a reality were two completely different things. I sighed and headed to the bathroom to make sure I looked my best. It couldn't hurt, right?

* * *

My heels echoed down the hall and my heart rate rose to match. I was so nervous, I just didn't know why. I slowed my pace when I saw the end of the hall. I approached the window and placed both of my hands on it. I didn't see any movement, but there was something on the bed.

"J, are ya in there?" I asked, unsure. I waited a while and decided that he didn't want to talk to me, I guess I would just come back and see him tomorrow. I turned to walk away when I lost my footing on something wet and slipped. I expected laughter to fill my ears but heard nothing but my heart beat. I pushed myself up and noticed that something warm and sticky was on my hands and legs where I fell. I lifted it to my face and my heart stopped. It was blood. His blood.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Yep, this is one of my masterpieces. I actualy couldn't sleep because I wanted to post it so bad. I know, I am just that weird. Yes, it is a huge cliff hanger and I hopefully will be able to upload in the next week, but I am packing to go back to school so no promises.

I also want to sugget anyone that has yet to look at the new Batman:Arkham Asylum game that you do so now. I just finished the demo and I can not wait for it come out. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Review really do make work faster!

**A special thanks to:**

Blackmoonlite

Madelineex3

Nixie-doodle

Rachael C.


	10. Talkin like you never died

CHAPTER TEN

* * *

"J, J!" I began to scream frantically. I rushed over to the security panel and punched in his code and slid my ID card. _Denied. _I tried again. _Denied. _I forgot, they had restricted my privileges to his cell. Damn it, what could I do? I rushed over to a call box and called for Arkham Paramedics to get here. Then I remembered, there was a universal code for emergency situations.

I racked my brain for the numbers and they came. 1227. I pounded them in, blood staining the keypad, and ran to the bed.

"J, can you hear me? Please, don't die. Don't do this to me." The tears were streaming down my face and falling on to his still body. I reached down and with a little difficulty, and flipped him on his back only to see that his scars were cut open again and his throat was slit. He was cold and judging the amount of blood on the floor, he wasn't coming back.

I backed up, trying to convince myself it wasn't real as I held a bloody hand to my mouth to hold in my screams. I headed for the wall, anything that might help support me, until I backed into something soft. I spun to have my arms caught by a uniformed security guard. My eyes grew wide and I began crying into his chest.

"No need to cry, death is only the beginning." He cooed. His voice was familiar. I went to rub the tears from my eyes but he was still holding my wrists. "Ya didn't know him anyways, Harley-girl." I blinked the tears away and drew my face to his.

I was able to make out his mangled scars in the dim light and flung myself onto him, tears of happiness came now. "J? Is it really you? How could you do this to me?" I started to half heartedly hit his chest but he soon pushed me away. I turned again to the man. He didn't look too much like J, but he was wearing his uniform and the massive amount of blood hid his features. "How did you-" I was stopped by the cock of a gun and I felt the barrel press into my back.

"Quiet, we don't have much time. I am dead and you are upset, very upset. I'm taking you to the security office to calm you down. Say anything and you will have an extra hole in your head." I got it now, it was all planned. I laughed to myself, but heard footsteps.

"Trust me, I know what I am doing. When they walk in, check his pulse. They won't see your scars in this light." I pulled off his hat and tried to cover them with his long greasy hair. I ran out into the hall screaming and crying.

"He's gone, he's really gone!" I cried. I saw Thurman at the back of the pack and I ran to his arms. I buried my face deep into his shoulders. "He killed himself." I started to shake and I tried to rub the blood off my hand and decided to grip my face. "This is all my fault, all I did was tell him I was reassigned" I managed through my sobs. His blood was now smeared around my face and slowly drying.

The security guard came up behind me.

"I'll take her down to me office, try to find her some new clothes and a good, strong coffee." He mumbled in his best New York accent. Even I didn't recognize it. I flung myself on to his shoulders and started to tell him how it was my fault and how I would never forgive myself. As soon as we were out of sight, he pulled out his gun. We were running. I managed to kick off my shoes as he pulled me by my wrist. It was extremely painful but if I fell behind, he would respond by ripping me forward. His long legs made it hard to keep his pace.

"Take me to Patients personal items. I need a few things." I had to admit that I was terrified of him. There was nothing keeping him from killing me, but he did need me to get out alive.

We entered the room and he immediately began looking for his things. The room looked as if it was already torn apart by someone. I walked to the desk and began to look through what was thrown there. A few weapons, none of which were interesting to me, a few ripped up documents and something shiny. I had caught my eye as I started to walk away. I reached down and fingered the cold metal. It was a coin. I turned it over in my fingers. It was double sided but one side had been cover in soot and a few chips and nicks on it. I tried to rub it clean but it wouldn't come off.

"Harley, get over here and find my gloves." He ordered and I snapped to it. He changed shamelessly in front of me and I blushed at the thought.

After he had changed into his street clothes, we headed towards the door. He didn't have his face paint, which was a shame because it really added to his costume. I was hoping he was planning on taking me with him. I wouldn't commit any crimes, but I could be like a wife. Clean up after him, cook for him. We made a great pair.

No, Harley, you can't. He is a mass murder, he will never, ever fit into that nice little slot of husband. Killing you would be like swatting at a fly. No way would he tolerate me. I would have to just go along as a hostage and leave once out of sight. I had to get away from him; He would kill me if I didn't listen to what he said, so I was stuck. I guess I would cross that bridge when we came to it. I was, however, infuriated that he had involved me in his plans. Why couldn't he do it on my night off, let some orderly find him? My rage grew, but I couldn't let him know that.

We moved through the maze that was Arkham. I was sure that they had caught on to him and would bet every penny I own that we were going to be greeted by GPD. My nerves were shot. He kicked open the door.

Had I bet everything, I would be poor. There was no one to be seen outside of Arkham. In fact, it was so quite that I could hear both of our hearts beating. J looked around, almost like he was expecting someone. He made a small growl. I guess his corpse was a bit more convincing than he thought. Speaking of…

"What exactly did you use to cut the security guard?" I asked. He slowly turned his face to mine and smiled.

"I made one. I used this nifty typewriter that was given to me so I could write my defense. The return carriage came in handy." He said with a mischievous grin. He slowly raised the gun to my head. Oh shit, this wasn't going well. "See, now that I told ya, I'm gonna have to kill ya." He cocked the gun and I scrunched my eyes together. I might as well die here instead of running. At least it would be fast. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks, but I wasn't sobbing. I just wanted it over with. I felt movement and _BANG, BANG, BANG._

* * *

**Author's Note: **Aww, come on, like I could ever kill our beloved Mr. J. Batman wouldn't be the same without him. :D

I took away one cliffhanger for another. I really do like this chapter, you can see a few characteristics of Harley and a few of Harleen, both of which one day will make a full fledged psychotic clown Hench-wench in training. One of those defining moments would probably be when she kinda helped him in his cell, even if Harleen protests at the top of her lungs.

I don't know when I will be updating again, but probably within the next week.

I have also started a new policy that for every review that you leave me, I will leave you one. My sister suggested that I hold this chapter ransom until I got more reviews, but I love you guys too much!

**A special thanks to:**

Blackmoonlite  
Chrisse11  
madelineex3  
Nixie-doodle  
poison-ivy-76  
Rachael C.  
Shadow HeHaHo


	11. Mutilation's the most Sincere form

**_...of flattery_**

CHAPTER ELEVEN

* * *

No pain. Good, I didn't want an especially painful death anyways. But something was odd, I could still hear and feel. I slowly opened one eye. J was standing there, gun in the air. He was biting his lower lip, holding in his laughter. I let out a sigh and he doubled over. I'm glad he was amused because I wasn't so happy.

"J, you're free, go. Stop this game. I just want to go home, take a hot shower and forget all of this happened." I screamed. His mirth suddenly stopped. He walked closer and held out a hand.

What was he doing? He certainly wouldn't be performing such a nice gesture, would he? I stepped closer. My mind was screaming no, but I wanted to touch his skin again. It had given me such a high before, and I really wanted to feel that again. Well, he did it before, right? I slowly reached out my hand and touched his finger tips. He didn't react. I slowly slid my hand down his and he seemed pleased. I reached the end of his palm and he started to grasps mine. It was a sweet gesture and I smiled. I guess that was his way of thanking me.

He smiled back and in one swift movement, my hand was crushed in his. I fell to my knees in pain. Little did I realize, he was grasping the hand that Mr. Bolton had fractured not too long ago. Now, it had to be broken. He crushed my fingers so much that my knuckles were rubbing against each other and beginning to pop, more than likely dislocate. My screams must have been heard throughout the island, but he never let up. I stared into his cold, unblinking eyes. His smile had yet to leave.

"Leave her go." I heard a raspy voice call out of nowhere. I jumped at the sound and J had released my hand. I sat on Arkham steps cradling it, wishing the pain would stop, the darkness enveloping us.

"Hello there. I though you would never come." He smiled and walk towards me. I scooted into the corner, trying to shield myself from whatever he planned on doing. As expected, it didn't help much. He pulled me to my feet by my hair. I reached my hand up to ease tension on my hair, struggling the whole time. My tears were flowing freely. He flicked open his knife and moved it to my mouth. The blade was flecked with blood. I started to pull away from him and in return he made a small nick on my top lip. He quickly shushed me. The Batman was moving closer. With each step, he made more cuts around my lips. I knew what was going to happen and so did our masked vigilante. I just hoped he could help me in time.

J bent down into my ear. "You and me and the Bats makes three." He sang, just loud enough for us to hear. He looked over towards him.

"I remember a situation very similar, Batsy. It's getting kind of old, isn't, hm?" He asked, licking his lips. I could tell he was excited. The knife dug deeper into the corner of my mouth. I felt small stream of blood run down my face. I closed my eyes and made a decision. The next chance I had, I would run. The opportunity presented itself when Gotham PD sirens were heard. They both turn towards the East, the source of the sound, and I jumped down the three steps.

Without a glance behind me, I ran towards the fence. There was no one at the gate, I presumed that he was called in once J was discovered missing. I guess I would just have to climb over it. My feet ached as I slid them through the chain link. I heard sticks breaking nd stones cracking, I knew he was close behind and I probably couldn't get away.

His thin fingers reached up in a fluid motion and yanked me down with such force. I was falling and the last I heard was his deep, unnerving laughter. Then it went dark.

* * *

"Damn it, Harley" He screeched. He pulled up her limp body by her shirt and pinned her against the fence. Her head was bleeding and she was completely unconscious. He flicked opened his knife again pushed it against her slack mouth.

The Batman had run up but the second he saw what the Joker was doing, he froze. "Listen to me. Let her go and I will do what you want." He growled; hands balled into fists.

"Oh, no, no, no. It's too late for that." In a swift motion, he cut both sides of her mouth. The blood poured heavily down her face and chest, staining her clothes. She didn't move.

He lifted her body, without difficulty, and walk over to the Batman bridal style. He paused for a moment, struggled with something in his pocket and slipped it down the front of her shirt, securing it in her bra.

"Bats, if you come after me, she will die. But you already know that." He smiled and reached her over to his arms. He tossed her unceremoniously and without concern. The Batman caught her and the Joker left with a laugh and salute.

The Batman looked at him with extreme hatred, but only for a moment; he had something more pressing to deal with. He gazed down at this poor woman. She was covered in bruises from her wrists to her neck. He laid her down in his Tumbler, applied as much pressure to the bleeding as possible and rushed her to the emergency room. Somehow, the Joker had escaped again. Hopefully, he wasn't going to claim another victim.

* * *

Pain. That was all I could feel. Was I in hell? No, it was too bright to be in hell. I could see the light through my clenched eyes. Then I heard beeping. My alarm? No, it was too slow to be my alarm.

The tears were falling uncontrollably. I called out but even I couldn't hear my voice. I tried again and again. Eventually, someone heard my plea.

"Oh my god, she is awake." This woman called out. The sound made me reach up for my head. It was pounding, I still couldn't see and I had no idea where I was. But I soon heard many feet shuffling through the door.

"Harleen, can you hear me? Are you in pain?" A mysterious male voice asked.

"Yes. My head. My face. Make it stop, please!" I begged as every tear I had came pouring out.

"Okay, we are giving you a sedative right now. Are you allergic to anything?"

"No!" I heard shuffling and I slowly open one eye. I squinted at the light and the sound, but it was too soon to be able to adjust. A hospital room. I tried focusing on the doctor, but he soon became blurry. Everything was blurry. Even sounds were becoming blurred and distorted.

"Can you turn lights…off." I mumbled as I feel into my drug induced stupor.

* * *

"Mr. Thurman, she is still out cold. We are medicating her for the pain."

"What exactly happened to her?"

"I can't share information with anyone but her family, I'm sorry."

"I know. Do you have any idea when she will be well enough to leave? I mean she has been here for almost a week and she is still in a coma."

"We don't know for sure, but we are weaning her off the morphine. If she wakes up and her pain is bearable, then we know she is onto recovery."

"Can I go sit with her?"

"Of course."

He entered the room and quietly slid a chair over to my side. He reached down and held my hand.

"Harley, I am so sorry. You were right, he was too much." He pressed his warm forehead on my hand and began to sob. I took a deep breath.

"Dr. Thurman?" I asked a few moments later.

"You're awake, you're okay!" He yelled out to the nurses.

"Ya mind not yelling, my head is killing me. What happened?" I asked.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"Umm…" What _did_ I remember? I quit, I admitted a patient, and I found J dead. I must have passed out or something. The tears were coming again. "I found the Joker dead. Did I pass out?"

"No. Harleen, he had switched places with the security guard and took you hostage. You can't remember that?"

"No…" I paused a while "Wait. I remember we went down to patients belongings." I scrunched up my eyes in concentration. What happened next? "He had me find his things, the room was torn apart. Then we went outside, and I fell off the fence. That's it."

"What about Batman, he was there." I thought a bit more and nothing.

"No, I just remember getting on the fence and falling. Do I have a concussion?"

"Ummm, yea. You have been out for 8 days. And you sustained a few other… injuries." He looked like he was ready to cry again. I lifted my head and I saw an ace bandage wrapped around my hand, yes the one Lyle broke and another one around my chest. I guess I bruised a rip. Over all it wasn't that bad. What was really bothering me was the taste in my mouth.

"Can you get me something to rinse out the taste?" Before I even finished asking he was gone and back with a small container of mouthwash, a glass of water and a can of coke. I grabbed the mouth wash poured it into my mouth.

It immediately started burning and leaking down my cheeks. What the hell? I spit it back into the container and rubbed my face. A look of horror crept over his face, clearly realizing his mistake. My expression probably matched.

I felt stitches on both sides of my mouth, extending up towards my jaw bone. I continued to trace them, in disbelief. Why hadn't I felt that before? I pressed on them and I still couldn't feel them all that well. Was that the drugs they were giving me? From the feel of it, they were huge.

"Gett…get me a mirrorrr." I managed to stutter out.

"No, you don't need to see that right now." I tried to pull myself up but I was still too weak and sore.

"Did, did….. he … do this to me?" I didn't need to ask, I knew exactly what happened. I was crying again.

"Yes. The joker held you hostage and… cut you when you were knocked out. If you were awake, they said you would not have survived." I was crying again. I was glad I wasn't awake. What a horror that would have been. How did he survive this? He obviously didn't have medical care do to the intense scar tissue. Another thought hit. From this day forward, everyone would look at me and think of him. He made sure of that.

* * *

It didn't take long for the police to interrogate me. In fact, Thurman told me they NEEDED to talk to me the night it all happened. I am glad my personal well being concerned them. I was expecting a surly detective, like the ones I have met so many times in my line of work. Instead, I met Commissioner Gordon.

Contrary to his appearance, he really was a caring soul. I just had to wonder what they wanted with me. I mean, I guess I was part of his escape but I think it was made relatively clear that I was his hostage. My face alone…

"Dr. Quinzel, I am Commissioner Gordon. I need to ask you a few questions regarding the Joker. Is alright?" He asked. His voice was calm but his body langue showed how truly worried he was.

"Ask away." I mumbled, still suffering from a splitting migraine. The morphine was taking care of everything else, but the dosage must have been off.

"Do you have any clue where the Joker is headed or any of his future plans.?"

"No." He didn't stress the matter.

"When you were attacked, the Joker had slipped something onto your person. It was a playing card. A phrase was typed onto the face. Does `Find him when you want to find me' mean anything to you?" He asked, from what I could make out of his face, he looked worried there was something he wasn't telling me.

"No…he was supposed to kill me, why would he expect me to find him? And why would I?" I answered slowly.

"We are not sure. Do you have or previously had any connections to the Chechen?" The Chechen was a former mob boss that was presumed dead after J's-Jokers last run in with the mob. I had to stop calling him J.

"Of course not. I thought he was dead."

"As did we, but it looks as if he has assumed another identity and is now working under the Joker. We found his DNA on the card."

"As I said before, I have no connection to either of them. I was only the Jokers psychiatrist for a few days." I was starting to feel my body drifting off again. I guess the medication was doing its job.

"Well, thank you for the help on that manner, Dr. Quinzel. We do have many more questions for you, but I can see that this is not the best time. I wil-" His voice faded as it had before and I fell into a dreamless slumber.

**

* * *

**

Author's Note:

Finally, I got a chance to update. This is one of my better chapters, I think. Let me know what you think and no cliff hanger this time. Yay!

Once again, a very special thanks to all of my reviewers. I am still upholding my review for a review policy. To those who have yet to receive one from, don't worry, their coming.

Oh, I almost forgot. Today the game Batman: Arkham Asylum was released. I attended the midnight release, which was the most fun ever. I may post up pictures of my sister and I in costume on my profile, so keep an eye out. This game is just so amazing, so amazing that I blew half of my life savings on a PS3 so I could play as the Joker. Yes, I am obsessed, which no one said was a bad thing.

**Very Special Thanks To:**

Black Beloved

Blackmoonlite

Chrisse11

Nixie-doodle

poison-ivy-76

Rachael C.


	12. At least my death wish will come true

CHAPTER TWELVE

* * *

The hospital kept me longer than I wished to say. It ended up being around a month and a half. My concussion from Jonathan had not been severe but it was not healed, so, when I had "fallen" from the fence, it was aggravated to an extent that I lost some motor function and some judgment skills.

With some physical therapy, I was back to my old self, well except for the scars. They weren't quite as disfigured as his were but were quite noticeable. J, no I mean the Joker had severed many blood vessels and nerves during his attack; most of the nerves couldn't be reattached so I couldn't really feel them. Looking at them was painful enough.

I got pity looks from anyone that passed me; they apparently knew what had happened. I hated that. Pity was a useless emotion.

I was continually interrogated by Gotham's finest, but after weeks, they deemed me as just another victim.

I was spared an admission to the psych ward as long as I agreed to long term therapy with Thurman, at his insistence. He also confided in me that my "stunt" with Sydney would have lost me my job if it had not been due to emotional stress of my case load. Yea, whatever he wanted to believe. But I did want my job back so I could get on with my life, so it worked out well. I headed home as soon as I had my doctors say so.

There was, of course, an excess of messages. I listened to them, hoping that Red had called me back. No such luck, I was beginning to get worried. She was due back in about 2 weeks, but I heard nothing from her.

There were, however, a surplus of messages from my parents; they took up ¾ of the tape. I really wanted to talk to my Mom, but it was too hard. I got as far as dialing her number but I began sobbing, so it never worked out.

I flipped on the TV as I started to clear out the old, rotten food and my dead plants. Red was going to kill me for that one. There was a News report on about a young boy who was severely injured in a traffic accident. Like that didn't happen all the time. I shuffled into my bathroom and turned the water on, hoping it would warm up soon.

"And we wish him a speedy recovery. Now, an update from last week's missing person. Dr. Pamela Isley…" I dropped everything I was holding and rushed over to the television. I took the volume all the way up and my eyes grew wide with anticipation. The reporter continued.

"Searches have been called off and she is presumed dead. Her business partner, Dr. Jason Woodrue had been found murdered at Scott Chemicals in Seattle. Dr. Isley was his long standing partner and her body has yet to be found. A memorial service will be held for both of the fallen co-workers in their hometown of Upper Preston. Anyone with leads to this mysterious case is encouraged to call Gotham PD, Seattle PD or our station. A monetary reward…"

I couldn't hear, I could barely see. When and how did this happen? Who would want to hurt her? And why had no one thought to tell me? How could she do this to me? "Whenever I found who did this, I am going to rip out his intestines and strangle him with them and then, then…" What would I do? I had no idea but it was going to be the worst pain he ever felt.

I was absolutely devastated, to say the least. I rushed over to her apartment, hoping no, praying that there was a mistake or they were talking about someone else. I only to find police tape littering the floor and a hand written sign saying "For Rent" plastered to her door.

I entered with my spare key, only to find it ransacked. Anything that may have been worth money was now gone. Even most of her furniture and clothes were missing. That night I laid on her bed and cried for my lost best friend. My only friend.

* * *

When I returned to Arkham, I, as expected, was put on intake and outpatient therapy with minor supervision. But, with my state of mind, I wasn't really fit to take any other cases. Thurman had initially planned to re-reassign me to Crane's case but it seems he had also escaped the same night that the Joker did. He was the one that tore apart Patient Belongings and he had thought to steal the security footage, so there was no documentation of the escapes. The videos may have ruined me, forever. I mean, I was taken as a hostage but, looking back, I may have been a little too willing. How could I be so stupid, why would I trust that man?

The Gotham City News, including Gotham Tonight, was covering the escape from the beginning. Their main theory was that I broke out both Crane and the Joker. They had continually trashed me and looked through my past to prove anyway that they could that I had orchestrated this grand breakout and that they were hiding with each, with me as their protector.

Either way you looked at it, they had to be wrong. The Joker uses his henchmen like you toilet paper. Quick and extremely disposable. It was a given, they just didn't last long. So, what make them think that Crane and J, would get along? Their personalities differed so much that the Joker would probably kill him. Crane even got on _my_ nerves. If the rumors were true, then Dr. Jonathan Crane was most likely deceased at the hands of our dear Joker.

My days began to blend into each other; the same old thing. Thurman kept an eye on my cases until he decided that I was well enough to handle some of the more involved patients. He was also screened my cases before he assigned them to make sure that my oh so lovely `smile' wouldn't trigger a further regression, or some such bullshit.

No matter who I was talking to, their reaction was all the same: Their eyes widened, they tried to look away, tried to avoid eye contact but I always see their sideways glances. They cannot focus, the idea seems too fascinating to them. I always have to explain how I got them, as if they didn't already know. Then that same look of pity. I HATED that look.

And then the inevitable question: "Did it hurt?" Oh, how I love that question. I wish I could scream or smack some sense into them. How did a knife felt tearing through your cheek without hesitation? Sometimes I would catch myself wishing that they would reach the same fate as I, but would I really want that to happen? Probably not.

As promised, I kept up with my weekly session with Thurman, not that it did anything.

"Hey, Dr. Thurman. I'm here for our session, is that okay?" I asked. I assumed it was, he was alone and was reading a case file.

"Sure, come in." He did a once over and took a sip of coffee. "I see your scars are healing nicely, have the headaches stopped?" You liar, they look horrible.

"Yes, I only suffer from them about once a weak and with the medication they gave me, it clears up relatively quickly. Thanks."

"Last time we were talking about Pam's passing. How do you feel you are taking that?" How do you think, you twit.

"Fine, I am just fine. I mean I miss her, but I have accepted it. Can't change what has happened, right?" I added a mock smile to make it believable. He didn't linger on the subject.

"And how about the scars? Are you having any suicidal or homicidal thought towards others, specifically the Joker?" He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt.

"No. The scars are still painless, as they probably will be the rest of my life. I continually get the questions and the looks. I have finally gotten the courage to tell my mother. She is still in shock. But, I am getting used to talking and eating with them and I am no longer having any trouble pronouncing my words. I made an appointment with a plastic surgeon, but he said nothing more could be done. I have taken you advice and forgiven him. I harbor no ill will." I was lying again, but how could I tell him that I wanted to beat the man with something very hard and sharp.

"This is very good, and I believe your mind will soon be healed. You have had your closure. I am so proud of you." He smiled and handed over my file. He had written a few notes, the last of which said `Therapy no longer required; to be terminated at patients request'. I slowly smiled at him. Finally.

"Speaking of closure, could I have a couple of days of to attend her memorial service?"

"We do need you, but take the time you need. This is a crucial step."

"Thank you." Our conversation ended, and I went back down to my office to finish my day. I had already bought the plane tickets and packed my bags. Thurman's response was inconsequential.

* * *

Every aspect of my arrival was run of the mill. The service was set for that night, so I quickly dawned my mourning attire. But once I entered the old Baptist church of this small, secluded town, I knew drama would unfold. Reds ex-boyfriend, Jon, was there.

We had met on a few occasions, enough for me to hate him. He was abusive most of the time and Red took it because he supposedly loved her. That was until he found a cute, 19 year old bimbo with money, and lots of it. He never was a looker, but I was willing to over look every one of his downfalls, because she loved him. So, I decided it was time to get even. I walked up behind him.

"How dare you insult her memory by showing up here!" He spun and looked completely shocked and horrified. Only then did I notice said bimbo on his arm. "And you brought your dip-shitted bitch, I am sure Red would be so happy to see both of you here and her wearing Red's ring." I slapped him across the face as his new girl tried to do the same to me. I pushed her back onto one of the nearby chair.

"Dear, you shouldn't do that, you may break a nail." I added in an angry tone. She didn't dare move. I quickly spun back to Jon.

"And you, if find out that you had anything to do with her death, I swear to God, you will beg me to die." I balled my fist and hit him square in the nose. I heard a satisfying crunch. My fist had his blood smeared on it. I drew up my knee, aiming for his unguarded groin as the other attendees just looked on. I grabbed him, trying to get the best shot I could as someone grabbed my shoulders.

I spun towards a hooded man. His face was covered in shadow as he dragged me out of the church.

"Get off, he had it coming. Let me go, I want to kill him. He hurt Red!" Tears were falling down my face.

"You are causing unwanted attention, Miss Quinzel." He said. His voice was somewhat familiar, but I couldn't place it. His was dressed in all black, his face hidden by his hooded sweatshirt. There were sirens drawing near as we both turned towards them. He leaned forward enough for me to see his eyes and he took off running. They were a very familiar icy blue.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, its been a long time, I know but school has started and I have been super busy, but I wanted to release this in honor of my very first comic con. Of course, I went dressed as Harley and my sister as Ivy. It was a blast. Anyways, back to my story. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I love the service scene because it is something I could see corrupted Harley doing, its more of a glimpse of her dark and unforgiving side. You may draw your own conclusions about our mystery man at the end.

As always, my review for review policy still stands. If you have left me a comment and I haven't reviewed any of your stories, please, send me a pm. I am human and I do make mistakes.

**A special thanks to:**

Blackmoonlite

madelineex3

MOSHiMOSHiHEZAA

poison-ivy-76

Rachael C.


	13. I wear this mask because

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I wear this mask because...you can't handle me

* * *

The memorial was finished in relative peace. Jon decided not to press charges thanks to the intervention and a few well place looks from me. On flight home, I looked at every person, looking for those eyes. I finally decided that it must have coincidence. I mean, why would Crane go all the way to Seattle for a person he barely knew? And since he seemed so proud of the new me at Arkham, I doubt he would stop me from hurting someone.

I thought about going home, but there was nothing there for me, maybe painful memories and more unanswered voicemails. I didn't want to be alone, so I checked into a downtown and very crowded hotel. It was expensive as hell, but the more people, the safer I was plus it had a bar.

I headed down and grabbed an open seat. I ordered a drink and noticed something odd. There was a silence, a tension to the room and almost everyone was staring at me at one point or another, more specifically my scars. I reached up and rubbed them self consciously. Not that much scar tissue but I could feel the indent that his blade once made. As the stares became more intense, I couldn't help it to leave but I still didn't want to be alone. I needed something to cover them. I didn't want anyone recognizing me.

I went through all the makeup I had, which wasn't much and found nothing. So I started walking down the main stretch looking for something I could get to help me when I saw a small Theatrical store nestled back into a corner. I headed in and searched for good wax putty and bought as much of it as they had. I would be using it for the rest of my life, might as well buy the good stuff while I can. I also picked up a tube of hair color, gone with the blonde and to the other end of the spectrum, black. My natural color was close enough, but I didn't have time for that to grow in. I paid and hurried back to my room. The sun was quickly setting and I wanted to try my new experiment.

After about an hour of messing with the gooey putty, I finally got my scars covered and blended to where I finally looked normal. It made me cry, the thought that I could never have this again, never just be. I finished messing with my hair, black actually suited me and it would make it harder for anyone to find me. J was expecting a blonde, so who would he send his goons looking for. I did a once over and headed back down.

I ordered my drink again but this time, I was normal, no one noticed me, no one questioned me. So I downed the drinks, drowned my sorrow, which wasn't working at all. After about an hour of people watching, a man sat next to me. Not too hansom, but a certain charm. He introduced himself, something I really didn't want to get into.

"Um, Hi, I'm Guy, Guy Kopski. Can I get you another drink or something to eat perhaps?" He asked sweetly. He was definitely awkward, but it was in a cute innocence kind of way.

"I'm Harley." I said curtly.

"Well, Harley, you have the most beautiful blue eyes."

"So I have been told." I said after another sip.

"Harley, Harley, you aren't the same Harley…"

Damn it, couldn't I get a break. Why? I just wanted to hide, why did everyone have to know. The goddamn media, it's all their fault, I am so done.

"…that wrote that amazing thesis about violence in women and the psychological causes? I particularly love the section about the female motives, amazing that most is driven by love."

"Uh, thanks, I, yea that was me." He took me completely off guard, I warmed up to him. "Are you a psychologist?" I asked. He laughed politely.

"Nah, I am actually still in medical school, I did want to be a surgeon, but after reading some of your work, I may be persuaded to switch. I had seen your picture and expected a blonde, but it's not a bad change." Another awkward laugh and a pause.

"Well, an honor to meet you Harley, I'll let you get back to your peace and quiet. He smiled and started to walk away. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down. He stared blankly at me.

Maybe it was because of the booze or because I had nothing to lose, I pulled him into a deep embrace, and we began to kiss and didn't stop. All the cards were on the table and I did something that I would have never done otherwise. I took him to my hotel room and we slept together.

The following days, we spent a lot of time together, pretty much ignoring what happened the night before. It was odd, I actually had feelings for him, it may have even been love and he seemed to act the same around me. My life finally started to fall back into place. I was happy, I found a great guy and he was one of the nicest people I had ever met.

With my new found happiness, I moved back home and began a serious relationship. I was working at Arkham again, restriction some-what lifted. The Joker had left town, as the word on the street said.

Guy still didn't know about the scars, but it could wait. Tonight he was taking me out to one of the classiest restaurants in town. Apparently he was born into money but he didn't act like it, he was completely average in every way, which was okay, I guess. He didn't really seem to have any surprise elements to him, but I guess I did need the stability right now.

"Harley, I...I have something to talk to you about." He wouldn't look me in the eyes. "It's, It's been about a month now, and short by some standards, but our relationship is so real and it's the most I have felt for anyone, ever." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. "Will you marry me?" He asked down on one knee.

I had nothing to say, I was in shock as my mouth dropped. Where did this come from? I mean, I thought I loved him, but how much? I looked him square in the face and I could see the emotion, the passion and I knew he was serious. I knew he would go to the end of the Earth for me and that we could be together.

"Yes. I will." I smiled and he ran over and swooped me up and kissed me as hard as he ever had. He slipped the ring on my finger and only then did I realize how large it was. This was unbelievable, I was getting married, I started to cry, not from the happiness, but because I had no one to share this with, no one to come to my wedding. But that I can worry about later, now I had a fiancé to worry about. He bent in, kissed my hand and said "First my heart then my soul." He was crying too.

After a standing ovation from the restaurant and a toast from Bruce Wanye, a very drunk Bruce Wayne, but Bruce Wayne none the less, we finished our meal and Guy dropped me off.

"Guy, I want you to come over to diner tomorrow, I have something special planned." I giggled out, I was still laughing from dinner, I guess it was some sort of emotional high.

"I'll be over at 8." He smiled.

"Drinks are at 7:30." He laughed.

"7:30 it is. Oh, and I wanted to give these to you, it's a copy of my apartment keys, it big enough for three or four, so you better start packing now."

"Oh, thanks, I would give you a copy of mine but I don't have any extras made, I'll have to do that soon." We both smiled and kissed each other goodnight.

I actually did have a copy, one that I got from Red's place. I had painted it for her, small little leaves painted on a central vine. No, I wouldn't be giving that one up.

I flopped down on my bed, staring at my ring and giggling.


	14. They fail to see

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

_...the anguish in my eyes_

* * *

The next morning I woke up early, cleaned my whole place and started to cook seafood fettuccini alfredo. It wasn't hard to do, but I wanted to cook everything from scratch and add in the little details that made it romantic.

So I got all dolled up and had everything ready by 7. And I waited and waited and waited. By 9 o'clock, I was done, I threw everything in Tupperware containers and went to bed. Who the hell did he think he is, I made it clear. Did he forget, did he find something more important to do or was he regretting his decision already?

I let it go for a few days, and I heard nothing from him, not even an email. Enough was enough; I didn't have time for this bullshit. I drove over to his place, ready to throw his ring right back in his face. I keyed in only to find an empty place, quite literally. Almost all of the furniture was gone, but there was a piece of paper pinned to the wall across from the door. It said:

_To whomever it may concern,_

_I leave this apartment and anything left in it to the landlord. I am cutting ties with everyone from my past life. Goodbye._

What? Why does this keep happening to me? But instead of my usually reaction, I turned around, locked the door and walked away. I slipped the key into his mailbox and headed home for a bubble bath. I put the key into the slot only to find that it had already been unlocked and my door was slightly a jar.

I headed inside with my keys spread between my fingers, not the best weapon but pointy brass knuckles, of sorts. Nothing seemed to be missing or even out of place. I checked hiding places and decided that it must have been the landlord checking up on things or something.

I changed into something comfortable and headed into the bathroom for my bath. I turned on the light only to see my mirror broken, glass shards littering the floor. What I saw next made my heart stop. There was a joker card taped to what was left of the mirror and I could see there was writing on it.

_Are you ready to play yet?_

I had ignored the last note from him; I assumed it was made for the Batman or the Police Force. He had intended to kill me. But this one was for me and me alone. This unsettled me and I turned to call the police when I heard something in the shower; a bottle had been knocked down. I slowly reached a hand over to the curtain and pulled it back as quickly as possible. I jumped at the sight.

There was a limp body, hanging by a noose. He was wearing an Arkham prisoner's uniform with a smile carved on his face. Not an especially deep one, or at least there wasn't much blood, so it probably happened after he was killed. His body swayed back and forth slowly. I reached out a pulse only to find that he was in full rigor mortis. I knew it wasn't J, he had pulled this one before, but I did recognize the prisoner's number, but I didn't know from where. _AAC1-52576. _I believe it was from one of my former cases, but which?

I slowly turned his face towards me. He was beaten severely, so his face was unrecognizable. He was noticeably skinny. I spun him even further and found my second joker card of the night. I pulled it off his body. I held it up, but I couldn't see anything.

I slipped it into my purse, determined to figure this one out on my own. The police arrived at their usual pace and I waited for them in my living room. I was noticeably shaken and decided it would be best for me to stay at a hotel. It wasn't as if I really had a choice, my house was now a crime scene. So, I grabbed what I needed before they had time to push me out of my own house.

I did find a grocery bag where I kept my files that had a burlap sack and with further investigation it was none other than the Scarecrows mask. I quickly checked my case files for the ID only to discover that it was Dr. Crane's number and uniform. I tried to get back to check his eyes and for the scars on his back, but they had sealed it off. I guess I was right after all. Poor Crane, I guess he didn't make it far. Commisioner Gordon rushed me out of my house.

"Ms. Quinzel, I am glad to see you again, but it's unfortunate that is had to happen under such circumstances. As you know, we won't be able to release the identity of the body, or the progress of locating the Joker, but I promise, I am putting our best on it, Detective Nashton?"

A clean cut man walked out into the hall with us as a uniformed cop sealed the room with crime tape. He had kind eyes but they were masked with a natural curiosity, and something else I couldn't quite place. Gordon bid a goodbye and entered my place again.

"Ms. Quinzel, please call me Edward. We will do our best to hurry through the crime scene so you can have your house back. In the mean time, here are the keys and the address of a police hideout, so to speak. I hope to put you under full surveillance under he is caught to thwart any further attempts on your life or the life of your fiancé. Have you had any contact in the past 24 hours?"

"Uh, no, actually he left. I mean, all his stuff is gone and he left a note. He is gone." I said flatly, trying to mask my pain.

"Yea, well, here is my card if you think of anything that you left out and these two officers will be your guards."

"Actually, I don't want any. I mean, thanks, but I'll be fine." He looked unsure. "Really." I added. He made me promise that I would check in every so often, just to make sure the Joker had not found me.

When I reached my hotel room, I locked myself in and covered the windows. I checked both the front and back doors and any possible hiding places there could be. It had a kitchen with a small dining room, a tiny living room, a very nice bathroom and a small bedroom. The nicest part was that it had both a front door and a back door, this way I could avoid any nagging police, or worse.

I was starting to accept what happened and my shock had worn itself down. That's when reality set in. I was being stalked by the Joker. This pissed me off worse than the fact that I was used as a puppet and disposed of.

I sat at the end of the bed and pulled out the card. I turned it over in my hands, trying to decipher its meaning.

I tried everything I could think of, even the thing with the lemon juice and the heat. Still no luck.

I continued to turn the card over in my hands, trying to see what he wanted me to see, seeing some tiny clue at what to do next. I decided to give up for the night and take my long deserved shower. I set the card on the sink and turned on the hot water. Steam quickly filled the room and I slowly began to unwind. I dressed in my night clothes and grabbed the card. I had been moistened by the shower, though nothing else changed.

I sat back down on the edge of the bed and began to slowly turn it in my hands again. Only this time, it felt different. I looked closely and I could see that the seam was separating from itself. I ran it back into the bathroom and held it over some steam until I was able to pull it apart.

It was two cards glued together around the edge. The front card was of course a Joker card, but the card that had served as the false back was blank with the word Урод written in red ink and the same phrase from before: Find him when you want to find me.

That was it, I had to find the meaning of all of his games. Since when was J so cryptic? Okay, so he was always cryptic, but not with what he wanted. Was he making sure to cover his tracks or was he playing with me again? Oh, how I hate mind games!

After only a few minutes of searching the web, I was able to find a new mob boss named the Урод. It took another hour or so to find where he may be. From there, it took three phone calls begging from drugs. I guess that's one way, but if it was that easy, what hasn't GCPD found this drug dealer?

From what I gathered, his name was Russian and it translated to freak. I wasn't quite sure how the Chechen fit into this, but I was bound to find him. I made a quick phone call to Det. Nashton to let him know that I was going to sleep and he need not worry. No one answered, so I left a quick voicemail. Little did he know what I was doing. Hell, even I didn't know what I was doing.

What exactly does one wear when confronting a potentially dangerous mob boss presumably working for the Joker? I decided to go with a pair of old sneakers, worn pair of jeans, a black tank top and a red hoodie. I pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and added a generous amount of eyeliner. I quick swipe of red gloss and I looked like I should be walking the streets. The more I fit in, the better.

Since I had to walk, I needed to avoid any unnecessary attention. Just in case, I tucked my cell phone in one pocket and the knife that J left in my back pocket. I tucked his card into my bra and a few dollars just in case. I locked the door behind me and headed towards a cargo storage container that was kept at the docks.

After about an hour worth of walking and not even getting close to Midtown limits, I decided to spring for the monorail. I rode it until Haysville and had to walk the extra three miles. Not the best idea seeing as I was in the heart of downtown, but I had no other choice. Now was not the time to be afraid.

I passed a few people, but I seemed to fit in well enough. The sun was slowly starting to set and that meant more danger. I quicken my pace and tucked my hand into my pockets. I hadn't even thought about the temperature. The steam of my breath was steadily coming out, which only made me think about how cold it was getting. Thankfully, I made my last turn and looked to see hundreds of storage containers. I let out a deep breath and zipped my jacket. I pulled out the print out map of the storage yard and headed towards the north corner. It was next to the water. I stood outside of container 3X7-PE7-SWEM wondering what to do next. I leaned against the door, thinking of what J would want me to do.

What? What had I just done? I stole evidence, hunted down a mob dealer, dressed as an addict, walked downtown at night, and am currently standing in front of a hideout. And, I did it all for him, without question. Was I losing my mind? Did I have a death wish? Or was it something more?

I paced in front of the door, contemplating what I should do. Should I really go in there? And why did I want to be here, did I really want to see him again? I finally decided that I was here for the same reason that I had grabbed his knife. I wanted _revenge_.


	15. Man in the front got a sinister grin

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

_Man in the front got a sinister grin_

* * *

I walked slowly up to the metal doors and knocked softly. I had decided I had come too far to let this go. I mean, he had ruined me, he had scarred me, and there was no turning back. There was nothing to turn back too. I was in no state to face my family and doubted I ever would be again, my best friend was dead, fiancé left me and I was working shit detail. I had enough of this life. If he decided to end it, at least I could promise myself to die fighting.

By this time it was dark and I was fed up with it all anyways. It was now or never.

I knocked again, this time much louder than I intended. I heard movement and voices. The door creaked open and a terrified looking man stuck his face out.

"What..what do you want?" He stammered, gripping the door so hard that his fingers were turning white. He looked as if he had been beaten.

"I need to see Урод. He knows I am coming." He left the door quickly and I heard some chatter. He returned a few minutes later.

"Who sent you?" At this, I stepped into the light from the door and pointed at my new facial scars. His eyes grew wide, but he understood immediately. He let me pass.

After being checked for a wire or any weapons, and a secondary pass through a metal detector, I was lead into a small makeshift room that was serving as his office. Apparently the knife was of no consequence to them. Good, it was the only thing keeping me from losing what little of a mind I had left.

There was nothing other than a desk and two chairs; one on either side. I sat down and waited for "The Freak" to join me. What kind of name was that anyways, moreover, how did he earn it? I probably didn't want to know the details.

Soon enough he entered the room and sat across from me, two Rottweilers in tow. They dutifully laid on his feet, but they looked as if they could attack at any moment. I slipped the knife from my pocket and set it in my lap.

I looked up only to find a heavily scarred Chechen sitting across from me. I guess he was still alive. His left eye had a long scar over it that continued down to his cheek bone. From what I could see, his eye was heavily damaged. His arms were covered in tiny marks and little cuts but on both forearms I had caught a glimpse of a few Russian characters carved into his arm. A few more glances and I was able to see that they both spelled Урод.

It all was coming together. He used to be the Chechen, but when he was hired by the Joker, he developed a new persona. We sat in a few moments of silence until his thick accent cut the tension.

"What is it that you are looking for?" He asked. His eyes bore into mine, presumably to find the real reason I was here. He had no idea. Hell, I didn't even know.

"I know that you are working for the Joker. I need to see him." I tightened my grip on the knife.

"I do not know what you are saying. I work for no one." He looked smug yet slightly shocked. I clicked open the knife, stood and slammed it into the table. Both him and his dogs jumped slightly, the dogs more so. I returned to my seat and pulled out the Joker card as he examined the knife.

"This is… what you want with him?" He asked, a little more nervous than before. What was his deal? I soundlessly slid the card across to him. He also examined it.

"Wait." He walked out of the room and I could hear the same mumbling again, but at this range, I knew it must be Russian. I could hear a dial tone, which was soon replaced with the yelling of Chechen. From his tone, he was asking questions and was irritated. I waited a few more moments and he walked back in.

"I cannot help you. As I said, I don't work for Joker-man." He handed me the knife and the Joker card. His palms were sweaty "I also advise you keep this between us, if not, the outcome will be bad. For us both." For whatever reason, I decided this was the end and I was happy with that. It was over. He didn't want me or care about me anymore. Good. He was really messing with my life. I was happy before, wasn't I?

I mean, I was secure but that was it. Nothing new, nothing exciting. My life was boring. But if that meant that I got to keep on living, then I guess that's how it should be.

I walked back to the nearest station and rode back to my hotel. My ride was uneventful, thankfully. Actually, there were no people in my mono-car. That was quite strange, but I guess it was late. I quickly hopped off and walked the two blocks.

I had an eerie feeling the whole time. It wasn't like someone was watching me, it was like something horrible was going to happen. I marched on through the poorly lit streets. There were numerous alleys and the place smelled of decay. Of what, I don't know, which is probably for the best.

I shuffled to my new home. I was looking forward to crawling into bed. I struggled to find my key card nervously. Who knew what lurked in the shadows. I wiped some debris off the card and headed out and towards my room.

As I got closer, I knew something was wrong. I could see that my door was cracked open and the light was pouring on the sidewalk. Not this again. I slowed my pace and pulled out the knife. I slowly pushed open the door to find it empty. I quickly hurried in and locked everything that would lock on my door.

I checked the bathroom, but it was also Joker free. What the hell? At least it was something out of the ordinary, something to get the adrenaline pumping. But, I think I had enough for tonight. I quickly undressed and buried myself in the covers. I drifted off in no time.

I was abruptly awakened by something heavy landing by my feet. I sat up, heart beating and blood rushing, and tried to rub the blurriness from my eyes. The room was still pitch black, but I could hear movement of several people. My hands fumbled onto the night stand for the knife. I raised it to the source of noise and tried to back into the corner. The lights flicked on.

My eyes instinctively scrunched shut. It was followed by deep growl.

"Get you stuff, we're leaving, Harley." I opened one eye and could see the black of his eyes and the red of his lips. My other eye shot open and I blinked a few times to make sure I was really seeing him. I couldn't think, let alone move. What could I do?

He started to rummage though the hotel room, breaking and defacing things as he went. His henchmen followed, occasionally glancing at me. I was still in the corner with the knife tightly clenched in my hand and tears streaming down my face. Once everything that could be ruined had, he turned again to me.

"Harley, you know I'm not patient. I said time to go." His final word was a deep growl. He grabbed the duffle bag and through it down into my lap and headed towards the door. He started to give orders to his men, orders I couldn't hear, but I hear something along the lines of sound the alarm, but he would have no reason to say that.

He was soon done and walked back towards me. I jumped to my feet and started stuffing anything of mine that I could grab. He smiled at me and took in a deep breath. He removed his coat and his gloves, folding them both neatly on the desk.

"Ya know, I heard you stopped by my, ehm, office. You missed my hours of operations by just a few minutes." I stopped what I had been doing just to stare at him.

"What do you want with me, Joker. Your signature has already ruined my life." I pointed to my scars.

"I think they're quite nice." He walked over and tilted my head up to meet his. His eyes bore into mine. He moved his face so close that our noses were touching. I dare not move, but really didn't want him to touch me. I could smell him; it was an odd sweat and metallic mixture. But there was something else, an under laying smell of a soft mint. It disgusted and intrigued me at the same time.

He gripped my elbows. "It's like I signed my artwork. My best masterpiece." He smiled slightly. I understood the true meaning of those words. In short, he owned me and we both knew it.

"What are you talking about, I'm not an object and belong to no one." Red would be so proud of me. Like I said, if I was going to die, I was going to die fighting. My stare deepened. "Again, what do you want with me?"

"I could ask you the same thing. _You_ came after _me_, I just left ya subtle hints."

"Subtle! Subtle? Not only did you disfigure me, you killed Crane and left him in my home. Now, you have broken into my hotel and ruined everything you could get your hands on." My anger was rising, but his smile remained. "And, how dare you involve me in your little plans and then dispose of me like a piece of gum? You know you could have never left Arkham without me." I smiled at him. We both know he owed me that.

"The funny things is, you didn't seem all that against it."

"Well, you did have a gun to my head, quite literally." I stepped back and folded my arms.

"And you had the advantage of a head start out the door. You could have told any one of them what happened." He stepped closer again, his arms mocking my position.

"To which you would have responded with a massacre."

"Too true. Like I said, Harley, you better get a hold of your temper."

"There is no one here to stop me. I'm pissed and you better damn well know it. Like_ I_ said, what do you want with me, what good could I do you?"

"I'm here. You have your uses, your great at escapes and you make a wonderful hostage." He smiled darkly and took another step forward. I swung my hand at his face but he caught my wrist mid swing, and pushed me down onto the edge of the bed. He slowly pulled out a small hand gun. He paused for a while, almost as if he was thinking something over. He sat down next to me and let the gun rest on his lap. He looked almost…depressed.

"I don't think I have ever told you this, but, uh, you…saved me."

"From what?" I asked. My tone was cocky and we both knew it, but he had no reaction, in fact, he leaned over and held his face in his hand. He took another deep breath.

"Back at Arkham. The beatings and tortures. I'm not crazy, but others sure seem to think so or at least they…disagree. It seems I have made quite a few enemies. There are only a few that see where I'm coming from. That's why I need you. I want to save you too."

"From what?" I asked again. This time I was softer n my tone, started to feel the pity for him crawl back into my chest.

"Yourself." His voice had dropped an octave or so; it was only a low rumble. His grin slid across his face, taunting me, entrapping me.

"Huh?"

"The longer you keep up this `Harleen' routine, the more you are going to lose yourself. Your _true _self. He straightened his posture and moved a bit closer to me.

"This is m-"

"No, no it's not. My face paint, my mask is who I am. The scars are who I am. I have seen another side if you. Unprofessional, unbarred, unpredictable and so…free. I came to cut lose your binds. And that is why I shared my mark, my scars with you. I came to make sure they don't go to waste."

"So you intended for me to survive your attack? You planned this all out?" I asked accusingly.

"Enough, we need to go…now." His voice became stern again as he stood. The gun was aimed back at my head.

"See? Great hostage. I called it." I did not move or show any amusement at all. "Aww, come on, you should really smile more. It's not like I can kill you now, like I said, I have uses for you. Are you ready yet?" His voice was reassuring and sincere, but his gun stayed pointed at me. He glanced over at the door and then again at me. He gave me a once over.

"I suggest you get dressed, but then again, I am enjoying the view. Least I know you're not wired. You spent a little too much time with Gordon for my tastes." I now understood why I was getting the continuous looks from his minions. Last night, I had fallen asleep in just my bra and underwear. I covered my rapidly reddening face in my hands and quickly pulled out the sheets and draped them around myself.

"I didn't notice." I smiled back at him, blushing a bit. His lips upturned into what looked like his first sincere smile of that night.

"I thought you may have felt a draft." I laughed again and was starting to feel at ease. He really wasn't that bad. Well, if you got past the guns, knives, and general unpredictability.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open, which made us both jump and J had stepped back a bit. He kept his gun pointed at me, as the shadow walked in. It was the Batman.

* * *

_Author's Note_: Okay, I don't really like the beginning of this chapter, but have rewritten t about four times and this is about as good as it's going to get.

As far as the story goes, I am actually getting a lot done since school is out, which is why I hadn't been updating. And I keep forgetting to add these little Authors Notes and the thanks to all my reviewers.

Speaking of which, I want to thank a few of my reviewers, I really love to hear what you think and I am still upholding my review for review policy.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, In order of appearance:

**Dr. Doodle**

**OzziBaz**

**Platinim13**

**makoto4ever**

**Kiwi-kisses-are-sour**

I also want to address a small plot point. I want to point out that this story is taking place in the perspective of Harley Quinn, which means she has less knowledge than the reader. This also means that some of the other characters will seem a bit off at times and this is most time intentional, it is based off of Harley's perception of what she sees in going on at that moment. So, if the Joker is acting a bit too lovey-dovey, it's only because Harley sees it that way, she chooses to ignore the manipulation and lies.

Thank you so much for reading!


	16. Outside of society

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**Outside of society...is where I wanna be**

* * *

"You made it!" J said excitedly "I was hoping you wouldn't reject our invitation. He indicated me. What did I have to do with this; my face must have shown my disgust because he swooped down and pulled me up by my arm, the sheets trailing behind me. He wrapped his free arm around me and pulled me closer. The other arm held the gun towards me.

"I got myself a wonderful new henchm-, hmmm, what would you be? Yea, I got myself a partner." He smiled at me and pulled me in tight, so tight that I couldn't breathe. I pushed him away a bit but his grip was still iron. "Speaking of women, I heard you are short one. A real shame if you ask me, I know how you feel, Bats. Not to many good ones, you really have to cut through the crop." He smiled at me and pulled my cheek onto his lips. Did he just… kiss me? I stopped trying to push away from him; my body kind of went limp. I slowly brought my hand to said cheek and stared at him. He had continued his conversation like nothing had happened.

"Anyone pop out that might someday replace R-" He paused, honestly trying to remember the former assistant DA's name. I whispered Rachel to him. "Ah, Rachel. Anyone to replace that feisty little bitch?" J continued to laugh and the Batman was increasingly becoming pissed off. Well, that was an understatement. He was sweating profusely, his teeth were bared and clenched and his fists were pulsing at odd intervals. He was speechless, so it had to be bad.

It was obvious how this would play out. I was playing hostage again, only it was a gun. That scar wouldn't be healing. How had he found us? I mean, not that I'm ungrateful for the whole knight in shining armor thing, but he failed the last few times in capturing this man, what would make this time any different? He certainly failed when it came to saving me. Yea, I lived, but at what price?

I think I was actually to the point where I didn't care if I lived or died. Everything was ruined as it was, so nothing much mattered. But I did have an odd confidence that J wouldn't be killing me anytime soon. I believed what he had told me. I trusted him.

Batman took a step forward and J pressed the gun to my temple. This made him stop. "We played this before, Bats, and you lost. Wanna try again?" He asked tauntingly. The cold gun barrel traced over my scars. The scars he gave me.

His body was in a cat like attack position. His back was arch and he knees were bent and he had a deadly smirk. He glanced over at me and did a quick double take soon followed by a once over. Batman had his hand on what looked like a belt but he dared not move. I couldn't even see him breathing.

"Again with repetitiveness." He said while straitening himself. He sighed and cracked his upper back. "Hate to repeat myself." He muttered more to himself than to anyone else. The Batman and I shared confused looks.

Within a second I was thrown on top of the bed, my elbow making a satisfying crack as it hit off the head board. Batman still hadn't moved. J just stood there shifting his head between us. "I have made an executive decision." He said in his business tone. I had to stifle my laughter, he really did sound funny almost congested. My giggles went unnoticed.

He continued "Little Harleen Quinzel shall no longer be plagued by me as long as I may freely walk through that door there." He pointed with his gun and smirked darkly. He was planning something else, but I didn't know what.

"Deal" Batman grumbled. He wasn't happy, but maybe he was cut out to be my knight. J slipped his coat on and shoved his hands into his gloves. He put his hands up as he slid past the bat and I heard him shuffle down the hall.

Batman was already on his radio or whatever it was before his coat tails left the room, supposedly tipping off the police. Anonymously of course, he was still wanted for the five or so murders he had committed. I quickly slipped into what I had on last night and grabbed my things, not wanting to get involved, not needing anymore problems. That when I heard something, or someone.

They were skipping down the hall and humming something. The door still stood open and stuck my head out to see who it was. I already had an idea, his voice always sent chills down my spine and it was tingling. When he saw me, he smiled and pushed me back into the room by my head with his gun barrel. Batman spun on his heel and tried to pull me away, but his knife was already at my throat. A double threat.

"That's much better Harley, and I bet its much warmer too!" He commented on my clothing. "No need to get all bent out of shape, Batsy-boy, I just came back for my knife." He pointed to the one that I had dropped when I was in the corner. He dragged me over, grabbed it, and dragged me back to the door. He released me again and vanished. I let out a deep sigh when he made a third appearance.

"Yea, I didn't wanna have another Rachel on my hands. Not that she required any…cleaning up" He let out a huge cackle. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Batman dove across the room and tackled him onto the floor. His small frame was pinned under the Bats massive weight. He landed a few good punches across his face, enough to draw a good amount of blood. He was just lying there, not retaliating, just laughing at him. This was infuriating him more. J sure had a talent for pissing everybody off.

"Hitting me isn't going to bring her back. She- exploded into millions of itty-bitty- tiny pieces as hunks- of shrapnel cut her- delicate body apart as she -pleaded with our White Knight. She didn't-she didn't stand a chance." His words were interrupted every few seconds that coincided with the punches thrown. Until the last sentence, that is. I just sat back, horrified. There was blood everywhere and I couldn't do anything to help him, nothing to ease the pain.

He was lifted into the air and thrown across the dresser, smashing the mirror and landing with a dull thud on the ground. He had been knocked out, hopefully nothing more. Batman was known for his non-killing ways, but I knew one day, it would have to escalate. Batman checked his pulse and tied him with some kind of rope and propped him up in the chair.

He walked over to me and held out his hand. I hesitantly took it and was pulled into a standing position. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked in his deep raspy growl.

"Yea, I'm fine. We're-I'm fine." I told him. I was shaking and started to feel like I had done something wrong, something evil, but he was treating me as a victim. In a way I was, I just had an unbelievable amount of guilt. Again, sirens came, signaling the arrival of the police. He shot a look over at the Joker and back at me. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He asked. He really wanted out of there.

"Yea, now get out of here. You are the only thing keeping this city together. Quick, before they find you!" He rushed out the door. I quickly closed and locked it behind me and headed for my things. I was unlocking the back door when I took one glace back to see the pathetic form of J slouching in his chair. I couldn't just leave him here. At the very best, they would take him back to county so he can await transfer to Arkham. My bet is he wouldn't survive the night whether it would be fellow criminals or the cops themselves. Worst case scenario, they would just shoot him now and be done with him. I couldn't allow that.

I threw my stuff to the floor and wet a washcloth. I hurried over to him and started to pant the cold water on his face.

"Come on J, snap out of it." I smacked the side of his face and his eyes slowly began to focus on me. I had him untied and slung over my shoulder by the time he was able to comprehend what happened. "Like you said J, time to go."

I tried to carry as much of his weight as possible, but most of him was still dragging. By the time I reached the back door, I could hear gunshots littering the air. I assumed they were after the Batman. I rushed us into the car and drove off as calmly as possible. J was in the back, blanket covering him as he slept it off. After a few moments he woke himself up to throw up only to lose consciousness a moment later. He probably had a concussion and sleep wasn't helping but I couldn't do anything.

When I stopped for gas, I had an opportunity to check on him. He was still covered and my car reeked of vomit. I quickly put on a thin layer of scar putty, enough that no one would recognize me when I went in to pay.

"J, how are you feeling? Can you hear me and do you remember what happened?" I whispered to him, remembering the pain sound caused from my own experience. "Here, drink this." I handed him a bottle of water and watched him as he hungrily drank it all. He laid back down with a sigh.

" The cops didn't follow you, did they? I don't feel up to blowing up MCU again." He laughed to himself and relaxed a bit. I rubbed the still semi-wet washcloth across his face, in the process removing most of his paint.

"Where to, we're at the city limits now."

"I got this small place back in midtown. 66 Exeter Street, gray bricks. But slow down a bit this time, talk about making sharp turns." He moved up to the front with me, reclining the seat back just a bit.

"Why did you do it, why not fight back? When you were squeezing me to death before, I felt at least two guns in your pocket. Why take such a beating?"

"Don't you think I deserve it?"

"Yea, you were kinda being a jerk, but still…"

"Well, you can't always get what you want." And that was that, I could tell by his tone. "But I have a question for you, why help a fugitive, a deadly one at that? You don't trust me, do you?" He sat up very straight and intently focused on me.

"Well, first off, who's to say that they wouldn't have shot you on the spot? I believe everyone should have a fair trial, and you have yet to receive an initial hearing. They just threw you in Arkham to 'keep him out of our hair' or so I was told. You fought this far why let it go to waste." I wanted to avoid that last question and we were about 10 minutes away from our destination, so maybe if I could ramble a bit…

"You're avoid-" He interrupted. _Damn._

"No, I am just thinking about it, it's not exactly the easiest answer. I trust that you have not once lied to me, I trust that in your principles, sociopathic tendencies, the sense of revenge you have because I feel those too. I trust that you will keep me safe when I'm with you. But I don't trust that you won't hurt me yourself." I pulled over, we had reached the address.

"Nor do I trust what you plan on doing with that gun." He was pulling it out of his pocket as he wiped some blood off, probably mine, on the seat.

"Yet you watch and wait. No pleas, no crying, no doubts. You do trust me, but it is more than that." He paused. "The sad thing is, my trust is limited."

He drew back his gun and hit me across the face and I blacked out yet again.

* * *

**Author's Note**:

So now things are getting really exciting. And I will stop concussing Harley, I promise.

A special thanks to:

Kiwi-kisses-are-sour

Platinim13

And to those that have been adding my story to their favorites and to all the readers. More to come, really soon!


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